Forty-two: the answer to life, the universe, and everything

So, next Tuesday, March 27th, I will be forty-two years old.

To this I say: Wut is this madness? I was JUST twenty last year!

No, I haven’t done any time travel shenanigans. I just can’t believe how much time has passed since my twenties.

When I was twenty, forty seemed decades away. Millions of years, really. A really long time.

When I was thirty, I was definitely creeping up there. But it still felt like an eternity.

When I turned forty, I really didn’t feel any different. Forty is the new thirty and all that.

But now…I must confess…I feel older.

It could be that I have been coping with chronic illness for many years. It could be that I divorced my ex-husband when I was thirty (how’s that for a birthday pressie?). Or it just could be the realization that gee, I graduated college TWENTY YEARS AGO.

Gulp.

Yep. I have done a lot, though. No doubts there. But when I think of my life then and my life now, it’s eerie because I have completely changed in almost every way since my twenties (except my hair. That hasn’t changed at all). For example, in my twenties, I didn’t really care about health stuff. I was thin, I could eat anything I wanted, and health problems were clearly for older people. But then I was hit with severe anemia (the worst my doctor had EVER seen) when I was twenty-two and I also was in a car accident which messed up my knees and…wow, the anvil dropped. Everything was about my health. I very nearly collapsed. I was losing my hair—chunks of it, despite having never been through chemotherapy. Or having cancer. I was exhausted all the time, but had bad insomnia. And I was underweight back then because I didn’t have an appetite. This was the beginning of my issues.

And then the fibro stuff came in: stomach issues, migraines, etc. But we didn’t know what it was. Just that I had Problems.

And so on down the line.

I used to be active. I used to do photo shoots and work in my darkroom. I used to roller blade and walk and play tennis. Back then, I had lots of energy and could handle it. Now? I’m lucky if I have the energy to make dinner. And haven’t been in my darkroom in ten years.

I keep telling myself that I’ll get in there, some day, but “some day” hasn’t happened yet. I’ve been writing mostly. Building up my business. Rediscovering Guild Wars. Trying to spend time with the family. Trying to relax after sixteen years of a stressful job.

But I really wouldn’t want to go back. I am so much stronger now. I’ve walked through hell and lived to tell the tale. I’ve had numerous tests and doctors and consultations and even an odd test called a walking EEG which was really fun (being basically chained to a computer for three days). I’ve learned the meaning of strength and I’ve learned how to live with chronic illness and pain. I’m much more conscious of health stuff, except for dieting—still haven’t quite cracked that nut yet. I’m in a loving marriage, and apparently it’s clear even to strangers. My hubby and I were out one day and this lady told us that we “give off a happy vibe.” We’ve been together for twelve years, married for nine. And he’s amazing. And all that heartache I went through to get to him was totally worth it.

And of course, my books and poetry chapbooks. Back then, I was mostly experimenting with poetry. I more or less wrote my first two chapbooks back then. I did dabble in short story and novel writing, but I would not get into it until 2001, when I was laid off for the second time.

Here I am. I’m a bit battered, bruised, hurting, tired, loving, writing, wanting, laughing, happy, courageous, caring, smart, kind, brave, true, driven, tortured, poet, wife, daughter, sister, headbanger chick, owned by a cat, free…

Forty-two years on this earth.

I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I recently wrote a nonfiction book which is in edits now. I have been keeping mum about this one. But I assure you, it will be awesome.

I couldn’t have written it when I was twenty. I didn’t have the experiences or even the strength to do it. It took twenty years to become the person who could write that book.

And I’m damned proud of it.

Stay tuned. The best is yet to come.