Since about August, I have been battling depression. Thanks to a long legacy of mental illness, just in my mother’s lineage alone, it is a condition that I have been in and out of most of my life.
That was March, at the start of the lockdowns and closures. I decided to rethink my situation and focus on what it really was that I wanted to do while working on some long forgotten projects. My house also had some ideas of how it had some needs, so that added to the stresses of finances, but in the end, solutions were found, stress was repressed and ignored, and some of those waiting projects got completed.
I recently turned 50. For some reason, my brain thinks this is a big deal. Maybe it’s because I never anticipated living past 32 when I was younger. Either way, my brain seems to think that I have passed into “being old”, which is ironic, since, it also wants to believe I’m still close to my eatly 20’s.