I’m still here. I recently turned 57 and yes, it’s true, that I have not been blogging or journaling lately. My head feels too full: so many thoughts and feelings coursing through me. It may be time to return to psychotherapy–as client, not therapist. Physician, Heal Thyself. No, I can’t. No one in a healing profession can really self-heal. Everyone needs help.
It’s challenging to be a student at this age. I was chatting with a classmate this week and it occurred to me that I could be her grandmother. Yes, I am hung up on this age thing. I am older than most of my professors. Only one other classmate this term is older than me. She is slender, extremely well-dressed, dyes her hair blond, and wears full make-up for a Saturday class. As for me, I usually wear a T-shirt and comfortable cotton pants (pants which my sister refers to as “pajamas”). My gray/black hair is severely pulled back into a high ponytail and my overweight face reveals only traces of make-up. Mostly clear lip gloss and eyebrow pencil. My goal on Saturday is to be clean and ready for my classes.
After my classes I get something to eat in the cafeteria and then head to the university’s high-ceilinged modern business library for a few hours of study. Saturday evenings I relax at home with a lovely dinner (solo) and usually a Netflix movie. Did I ever imagine that this would be my life at 57?
Since my mother passed away a few months shy of her own 57th birthday, I wrestle with being 57. Why was her life so short? How long do I have left? How will I chart my life, going forward?
One day at a time. One hour at a time. One minute at a time. First, take a deep breath. Inhale serenity and exhale toxins (lost friends and lovers, anxiety and anger, bitterness and regrets over lost opportunities).