I Thought I Was Losing It. Turns Out, I Was Waking Up.

Kristie Bennett
Sep 19
2 min read

Updated: Nov 14

There was a moment I found myself crying in my closet — heart pounding, mind racing, completely overwhelmed. I couldn’t explain what was wrong. I just knew something was off. I didn’t feel like myself. Actually, I wasn’t even sure who “myself” was anymore.

Was I burned out? Hormonal? Broken?

For a while, I chalked it up to stress, midlife, maybe menopause. But beneath it all, there was something deeper trying to get my attention.

What I know now is this: I wasn’t losing it. I was waking up.

We’ve Been Sold a Lie About Midlife

Society likes to call it a midlife crisis — a narrative that tells us we’re irrational, unstable, or falling apart.

But here’s the truth: You’re not crazy. You’re changing.

Midlife can bring a perfect storm of exhaustion, grief, anxiety, and identity confusion. You might find yourself overwhelmed by waves of rage, paralyzed by decision fatigue, or unable to make sense of the emotional chaos. The roles you’ve carried for decades — mother, partner, peacekeeper — no longer fit.

What’s Actually Happening

Midlife is a crossroads. It’s when everything you’ve been holding finally demands to be felt. Hormones shift. Grief surfaces. Old patterns no longer work. The woman you’ve always been starts asking:

“But who am I now?”

It’s not a breakdown. It’s a breakthrough.

You are not falling apart. You are outgrowing who you were taught to be.

The Moment Everything Changed for Me

For me, that moment on the bathroom floor cracked something open. I realized I’d been living on autopilot — surviving, not thriving. I was burned out from trying to be everything to everyone, and completely disconnected from my own needs.

But that unraveling became an invitation.

Not to fix myself. But to find myself.

What Helped Me (And What Might Help You)

This awakening isn’t easy. But it is sacred.

Here’s what helped me — and what might support you:

Therapy that got to the nitty gritty. Not just surface stuff — but the stories I had buried deep inside.
Radical self-compassion — especially on the days I felt like I was “too much” or “not enough.”
Permission to be angry at the systems that raised me to self-abandon.
Community — women who were also walking the road back to themselves.

And most importantly — knowing I wasn’t alone.