Birthday Thoughts

Let me say right up front that over the years only one birthday has bothered me:  my 26^th.  No, not 25, 30, 40 even 50, but 26!  I have no idea why other than the idea that I had lived for a quarter of a century.  It just seemed huge!  I was very depressed.  Well, 60 isn’t sitting so well quite frankly.  It marks the point at which you have only 10, maybe 20 years left.  It’s the point where you look back and see what you’ve done with your life, because there’s not much more of it left.

Plus, no one wants you!  I can’t find a job and even when I’m out and about, I see very few women who are my age in the work force overall.  Mostly they are out when I’m out and most look like they have to save money.  Part of this knowledge is based on my doctor of 25 + years telling me over 4 years ago (when I saw her in a state of hysteria, me not her, about the cheating slimebag I was married to) that over half her patients were women my age going through a divorce.  The unifiying element in almost every case was the discovery of viagra by their spouse.  (An interesting thing just happened, I tried to spell the “v” work without capitalizing the v since I’m petty like that, and Microsoft Word capitalized it for me, just as it does other name references.  Obviously, the developers (probably men) of the spell check part of word made sure the drug got its due.  How pathetic.)

But I’ve gone of on a tangent of peevishness.  Back to 60.  What do you do when you turn 60 and you’re looking at starting your life all over again just as if you were in your 20’s?  You don’t have years stretching out in front of you ad infinitum.  You are at the end of the line in so many things and ways.  How do you begin?  And what if you’re still in limbo having waited/wasted almost 4 years to get a divorce and you’re still not there?  There are so many things I would have done differently.  But I NEVER imagined in a million years that the waiting would go on for so long and still not be finished. 

The fact that I live as if I’ve never really moved in or expect to move out any day is testament to my original optimism on the subject.  After 4 years it takes it’s toll.  You just drift, waiting to start your life.  It’s horrible the live this way and to contemplate all this on a 60th birthday.