When Your Brain Gaslights You: Her Name is Fogallena and She's a Piece of Work

I co-founded GLO almost two years ago with Keri, partly out of empathy, because she was deep in the thick of perimenopause, and partly out of curiosity and self-education, knowing I wasn’t far behind. But let me tell you this, I had no bloody idea what it actually feels like.

I’m going to try my best to explain it — for anyone with a partner, a colleague, or a loved one going through this. And for all the women who might be standing on the edge of this hormonal rollercoaster, unaware of what’s coming.

The Lead-Up: My Body Was Telling Me (but I Didn’t Want to Listen)

Looking back, I reckon perimenopause started creeping in a couple of years ago. My symptoms didn’t come on gently, they barreled in. My periods were all over the shop, and even with a Mirena, I was bleeding 21 out of every 28 days. My uterus lining thickened, insert image of murder scene (sorry TMI I know feel free to stop reading if its too much). The pain became so bad it felt like labour; I've had 2 kids this one I remember well. Once, it came on so suddenly I nearly crashed the car.

And here’s the kicker, nothing worked. Not Panadol. Not heat packs. Just lying flat and trying not to die. (Side note fun fact: Early evidence suggested Viagra may significantly reduce period pain within 4 hours, but still they went down the boner path).

Then came the restless legs, which I’ve had since childhood but now need to medicate. Then the random itches, like the skin on my shoulders in the middle of the night, and no cause, no rash, no explanation.

But all of that? I would take every bit of the pain, the blood, the itching, over the brain fog or what my team and I have now lovingly termed "Fogallena".

The Bitch that Stole my Confidence

When Keri first started talking about brain fog, I empathised. But honestly? I didn’t get it. She said it wrecked her confidence, affected her work, and sent her anxiety through the roof.

Well… now I get it. And I’m sorry for not understanding earlier.

In the last six weeks, my brain, which I thought I had a decent grip, absolutely turned on me. Gaslit me in a way no narcissist ever could. And the worst part? It’s my own brain doing the damage.

This isn’t just about forgetting what you walked into a room for. This is standing in front of a colleague trying to give a basic update and your words just… won’t… come. You can see the thought, but you can’t speak it. You ramble around the topic, trying to land on the right phrase. Nothing makes sense. You feel like you’re having a stroke. And the moment you realise what’s happening — the anxiety floods in. You spiral. You question everything.

I’ve run major strategic programs. I’ve confidently spoken to senior leaders, made big decisions on the fly, and somehow winged it with a cheeky smile and good instincts.

Now? My job hasn’t changed much in workload, but it feels impossible. I drop things. I lose focus. I question whether I was ever even good at my job. That confidence I used master. Gone. My brain fog gaslights my competence with no evidence, just this deep, gnawing feeling that I’m not enough.

The Science Behind the Madness

From a brain science perspective, this makes sense, in the most unfair way possible.

Oestrogen is like a brain’s secret weapon. It supports dopamine and serotonin, the feel-good, focus-giving neurotransmitters that help you get shit done and keep your cool while doing it. It protects your memory, your mood, your executive function. It’s also what helps regulate your emotional responses and keeps your brain energy firing.

So when oestrogen starts to fluctuate, everything goes haywire, especially if you’re potentially neurodivergent.

So, What Am I Doing About It?

After one particularly rough week, I took my GLO journal to my doctor, laid out all my symptoms, and told him I wanted HRT. He looked at my bloods, which don’t show menopause yet, but thankfully agreed to trial me on oestrogen gel. I credit the GLO journal entirely for helping me advocate for myself (insert shameless plug check it out! Preorder - Be Your Own Project Journal | GLO NETWORK).

And then… two women pulled me back from the edge.

1. My boss

When I spoke to her a blubbering mess, she didn’t panic. She didn’t dismiss me. She just said: “Nic, why didn’t you tell me? You’re not alone. I can help you." That kind of support, it matters. I know not every woman is lucky enough to have a boss like that. I do, and I’m grateful.

2. Keri

Keri sat me down and said: “Nic, you’ve got a few things going on, GLO, Petal & Paw, your full-time job. They’re important, but you need to time-block properly and not try to juggle everything at once. Focus where you need to, or you’ll drop the ball, and you’ll regret it. I know because I did.”

She’s right. I lean on GLO and Petal & Paw because they’re easy. They make me feel purposeful. But if I keep distracting myself with the things that feel good, I’m going to drop the thing that matters most right now, my day job. And that’s not a mistake I want to make.

Why I’m Sharing This

I’m just starting this journey. But I’m sharing it because I think stories like this matter. This isn’t just about hot flushes and mood swings, this is about losing your grip on the very things that once made you feel capable.

So if you’re supporting someone going through this? Don’t assume it’s just about forgetting a word. Their body is hijacking their mind. And they’re likely questioning their entire self-worth in the process, they will need extra love, patience, some confidence boosts and a reminder that its not them, its Fogallena and one day she will fuck off back to where she came from.

If you’re going through it yourself? You’re not alone. You’re not broken. You’re in the middle of the mess, but there is a way through.

And to wrap this up, I’ll leave you with Keri’s top five tips coming out on the socials this week. Trust me, she’s got some gold.

Nic