It's been a while since I sat in my kitchen, hand in chin, miserable. Well, miserable is strong. Let's face it, there's misery, and there's *misery*. I was just run of the mill tired of myself and it felt really bad. And it had been that way for a long time. Years, actually. When I write that now it seems inconceivable that I could have let myself slip steadily downward so consistently for so long. And who woulda thunk it? I was, after all, living the best life of anyone I know. Happily married to a handsome, charming Man of My Dreams, three grown kids who turned out better than we could have hoped for - and who were all off the payroll - and a job that came easily to me and allowed for a schedule so flexible I sometimes had to remind myself that I actually did indeed work.
But even with all that - misery. Albeit middle class misery. Or was it depression? A persistent, low grade depression. From my current perspective, I have strong thoughts on what was going on. But at the time I was just lost.
I was also dreadfully overweight. And in physical discomfort. Again, a rather non-specific, cruddy feeling. Ankles, fingers, knees, shoulders. Nothing drastic. Just, well, crud. Throw in the fact that my once nimble brain seemed to have become as sluggish as my energy level and I found myself fearing that all the old cliche's were right: Life is all downhill after a certain point, that people of a certain age should be set off on an ice floe, that post-menopausal women can count on their world shrinking and their midriff expanding.
I was a mess. At least, in my head. And body. In truth, I was a mess in my heart. Something had to change.
Thus started my adventures and how 9 chickens, a lot of bacon and abandoning me comfort zone changed my life.
I hope you'll find something of interest to read here. Please feel free to comment or ask questions. And maybe you can answer some of mine!