I just… I don't even know where to begin with this, honestly. It’s like, you think you’ve got a handle on things, right? You’re in your early thirties, you’ve got the career thing, the kids, the whole… *life* thing, and you’re just trying to keep all the plates spinning, you know? Like, my parents are getting older, and my mom just had that hip thing, and then my youngest is going through a sleep regression, again, and my boss is totally piling on projects because someone else just left and I'm apparently the only one who can handle it. So I'm just… perpetually exhausted. And honestly, I’m failing at everything. My kids probably eat too many goldfish crackers, my parents think I don’t call enough, and my job performance reviews are going to be like, “She’s trying her best but maybe she needs more *focus*.” And I just feel like I'm constantly disappointing someone, usually everyone. But the thing that's really messing with my head is… I don’t know. It’s about intimacy, I guess. My partner, like, they’re amazing, and they’re really patient, but for the past few weeks, it’s just… gone. The desire. Like, POOF. And I’m only 32, you know? I’m supposed to be in my prime, all that stuff you read about, and honestly, before this, things were pretty great. Like, consistently good. And now, it’s just… nothing. Even when my partner tries to initiate something, I just… can’t. It’s not that I don’t love them, or find them attractive, because I totally do. It’s just this complete, like, anhedonia almost, specifically for that. I’ve never experienced anything like it before, and it’s freaking me out. Is this what, like, perimenopause feels like? But I’m way too young for that, right? Or is it just the stress? The chronic fatigue? I don’t even know what to call it. And the worst part is, I can't even talk about it with anyone. Like, who do you even tell? My friends are all either pregnant or just had a baby and are complaining about *too much* attention, or they’re single and dating and totally confused by that whole scene. My mom would probably just tell me to eat more kale or something. It’s just this really isolating thing, because it feels so… broken. Like my body is just deciding to shut down that entire part of me, without explanation. And I just want to feel like myself again, like the person who actually *wanted* to be intimate, not just the exhausted shell who’s just trying to remember if they packed the right color socks for their kid’s soccer practice. It’s just… a lot, and I don't understand it.