It’s weird when I step back and look at my life, because what I’m doing now barely resembles the “me” that existed when this transition started. Three years ago, m life was consumed by the completion of my doctorate, the constant drama of my then-best-friend’s life, Sassy was still alive, and I weighed more than I have ever at any point in my life. I was stuck in a job in which I loved what I did, but hated the company; I felt like I needed more challenge, but had no idea how to achieve it– and on top of that, I was working two other jobs just to make ends meet. I lived in a big house that seemed too small and had a younger child who was acting oddly, but we didn’t know what we were seeing. All we knew was that we had to sit through endless meeting with her school and try to juggle doctor appointments with everything else in our lives. My life seemed disjointed, stressful, and fairly chaotic in general.
Now, nearly everything has changed. We live where I had never imagined even traveling. Our new furry family member is named Janet, and she loves to snuggle in my lap, which not cat has ever done before. My husband and kids are happy, and although I don’t have a female “best” friend, I have several really good friends. We have solved the issue with our younger child and she is now stabilized. I have two jobs in the same industry sector, both of which respect me for my educational accomplishments. I have a small business devoted to educational writing and publication, and enjoy controlling the amount of contract work I want to do– so instead of having three jobs in which I am not respected, I have two wonderful jobs and a business in which I call the shots and get paid for it.
But the transition isn’t finished yet. I have 12 days until I get my new knee. I hate feeling sluggish and fat because the only exercise I can do without searing pain is upper body aerobics. It burns a few calories, but lacks the burn that I enjoy when I exercise. I can hardly wait until my new knee is in place, because the nightmare that started nearly 20 years ago (when I first destroyed my knee) will be resolved far more permanently than it has been. I have so much that I want to be able to do — walk, run, bike — and can hardly wait.
A train whistle just punctuated the foggy, chilly night, and Janet is peacefully curled up on the couch.
Such a feeling of peace and serenity has enveloped my life that I am constantly amazed at my absolute belief that everything actually WILL be alright.