Memory Loss or Menopause? The Daily Struggle of Finding My Keys

It starts the same way every time. I’m rushing around, trying to get out the door, when suddenly, I freeze. Something’s missing. Something essential. My keys. My mind starts racing—where did I last see them? Nightstand? Kitchen counter? Did the dog take them? (Highly unlikely, but at this point, all theories are valid.)

Panic sets in. I start retracing my steps like a detective on a case that is both ridiculous and personally insulting. I ask my spouse if they’ve seen my keys. They give me the look and say,

“Check your pocket.”

And there they are.

Every. Single. Time.

Welcome to midlife, where forgetting why you walked into a room is just another Tuesday, and every lost item is an existential crisis waiting to happen.

The Case of the Disappearing Brain Cells

I used to have a sharp memory. I could recall song lyrics from the ‘90s, every embarrassing thing I said in high school, and exactly where I parked my car. Now? I walk into a room with purpose, only to stand there blinking, trying to remember why I entered in the first place.

Is it memory loss? Is it menopause? Is it the copious amount of weed I smoked in my 20s? Is it all of the above? Science says hormonal shifts during perimenopause and menopause can affect memory and focus, a phenomenon charmingly called “menopause brain.” It’s like pregnancy brain but without the cute baby at the end.

The Great Menopause Scavenger Hunt

Keys aren’t the only casualties of my disappearing memory. My sunglasses? In the pile of empty grocery bags left on the counter. My phone? I know I put it down somewhere..... The cup of coffee I just made? Reheated three times before I finally completely forget about it in the microwave.

At this point, I should just put a tracking device on everything I own—or accept that part of my daily exercise routine is a full-body search of my own house.

Coping Strategies (That May or May Not Work)

Since I refuse to accept my fate as a woman forever looking for her own belongings, I’ve developed a few coping mechanisms:

• Designated Spots – In theory, if I always put my keys in the fancy box I bought to keep them, I won’t lose them. In practice, I forget to use the box.

• Sticky Notes Everywhere – Helpful until I forget where I put the pad of sticky notes and the pens for that matter.

• Talking to Myself – Saying things out loud, like “I am putting my keys on the hook,” is supposed to help. My family now thinks I’ve lost my mind entirely.

• Accepting Reality – Maybe I can just Instacart my groceries and skip the gym today...

  
  

A Little Humor, A Lot of Grace

At the end of the day, I try to laugh about it. Yes, menopause brain is real (see husband, the Mayo clinic says so). Yes, it’s frustrating. But if I can’t remember where I put my patience, at least I can remember to have a sense of humor about it.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my phone. Again.