You stand in front of the mirror: Do I look like everyone else? Do I look old? Is my co-worker older than me? Do I look like that to other people?
You come home at night: I'm exhausted. Too tired to do the laundry tonight; how do other people get it all done? Am I the only one whose house isn't picked up and whose laundry isn't done?
You think about retirement: I can't wait. I don't think I can get through another year of what I'm dealing with at work. Is there some way I can get out early, while I still have some life ahead of me -- I hope. How would we survive if I actually did retire?
You reflect on life: I don't know what I thought my fifties would look like, but I'm pretty sure this isn't it. I thought I would have more money; I thought I would have more energy. I thought life would be more...compelling, more fulfilling, more colorful and vibrant somehow.
You consider your own mortality: People die in their fifties. I have this new black mole on my back. I'm being tested for XYZ disease. My neighbor down the road just keeled over from an apparent heart attack, and he was only fifty-three.
It's okay. We can talk about this...right out loud on the written page. You're not the only one. We--all of us in our fifties--we all think about this stuff. It's not just you.
Both my husband and I have faced, for lack of better terminology, some "internal conflict" as we maneuver our way through our fifties. We've felt alone, unprepared, and a little ashamed of our emotions as we tromp through this unmapped countryside. But I've discovered something: the farther we go, the more people we meet. The more people we meet, the more we find we aren't the only ones asking these questions, fighting these insecurities.
So, I've determined it's time someone talked about it... the elephant in the room. It's time someone addressed it and made it behave. It's time someone pulled it all together and wrote it all down, so we all wouldn't be so alone.
In an effort to be that person, and do that job, I'm going to jump in and start writing. Wanna join me? Here we go!
We've all heard of the stages of grief before, right? Well, I've come to believe there are stages of The Fifties, as well. Here's my version of those stages, mainly derived from personal experience.
Stage 1: Disbelief. I'm HOW old? No... that can't be right.
Stage 2: Disregard. I'll ignore it. Maybe no one will know, and it won't affect me.
Stage 3: Discovery. It's real. I'm stuck here in this exitless room called The Fifties.
Stage 4: Despair. I'm the only one in the world who's ever faced this. What will I do?
Stage 5: Determination. Face the facts, get a grip on myself. Start living life while I still can.
It occurs to me that I only have 10 years to move through all these stages before 60 hits. Who knows what firestorm THAT will start, so I'm finding it best to waste no time working my way through the inevitable Stages of the Fifties. You can't avoid them, so you might as well make up your mind to push through.
Here are some tidbits to hang on to while you do battle with yourself:
1. You are not the only one. What you're thinking and feeling is common and generally felt by others, though they may not talk about it.
2, It's personal. NO ONE wants to admit their age. NO ONE wants to admit how they're feeling inside. NO ONE wants to appear weak or uncertain. But EVERYONE is.
3. You can survive it and let it happen to you, or you can control it, and determine to enjoy life. Truth is, you'll probably do a little of both.
4. You will live through it...unless you don't. Facing your own mortality is one of the most distressing pieces of this whole puzzle. Stop fussing about it. Make sure you're right with God, and move on.
That's all I have time for today, but hang on... there's more to come.
But for today, go out and do something that makes you feel alive. I'm going to decorate my house for fall and enjoy every minute of this season. Then tomorrow or the next day, I'm going to write another installment of how to get through your fifties.
Love and life to you today....
Dory
No comments:
Post a Comment