My name is Judy Harper. I turned 47 just before Christmas, and I guess I'm in the midst of what could be called a mid-life crisis...or, actually, I don't know what to call it.
All I know is this: I have a wonderful life. I am happily married and have a wonderful daughter and a dog I love to pieces. I live in a beautiful location and have a job at a good school. Most people would look at my life and think "she doesn't have a care in the world."
And yet...I do. Anxiety keeps me awake most nights. That anxiety leads to bouts of depression that are only deepened by the soundtrack in my head that says "what the hell are you sad about? Get over yourself." The depression and anxiety are exacerbated by my well-honed penchant for self-sabotage and the use of food and the internet as self-medication.
I am not writing to provide answers. I just want to give voice to the particular moment in time I find myself in: being 47 years old and realizing that I've never, ever taken the time to truly know myself. Everything I've done, just about every single thing is for others or because of others.
And somehow, this little voice has started popping up, saying "enough"...enough hiding in a job that is good but also really easy, and, after 20 years, not challenging or satisfying. Enough of hiding in a body that is 30+ pounds overweight. Enough of medicating with chocolate or chips or Candy Crush or obsessively hate-reading the news.
A new decade is upon us, and the only thing I know is that I want to write and to tell the truth and try to find healing and a sense of self.
If no one ever reads these posts, at least I will know that I've tried. If one person reads them and finds resonance and comfort in being seen and heard, then I will have won.
I'm looking for myself, looking to shed the layers, take off the mask, the armor, and the non-stop people-pleasing and see if I can find the truth. See if I can find Judy and meet her for the first time.
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