So, Now I'm Old??? As In OLD?

"Grow old along with me...the best is yet to be." Or something like that - I believe are the words on most sundials. I'm 50-freaking-nine and I've always tried to be up-to-date when it comes to dress. I don't schelp around in polyester stretch pants and sloppy pullover tops and "comfort" shoes. Since I have daughters and have worked with younger classy women I've always kept myself well-dressed without being broke or looking like I'm trying to be 30 again.
I wear age-appropriate make-up, keep the colors in vogue without going over the top and don't over do the lip gloss and NEVER wear blue eyeshadow! That was over for me in the '60's. I still don't have to dye my hair but would if I needed to...

But I had a rude awakening last night when the family was all together. I was wearing jeans, a teal tunic turtleneck sweater (I love alliteration) and new lace-up suede ankle booties by Esprit that I'd just gotten on eBay. I was chatting with the girls and told them about the great steal I'd gotten on my fab footwear and asked them if they considered them "grannyish..." They looked at one another and started laughing and my youngest looked at me and said, "But mom, you are old!"

Jeeeze, girls! I never in a million years would've treated my mom like that. It goes back to the post under "My Horoscope." I'm always so damned concerned about others' feelings. Well, the wind went right out of my sails. There were a couple of other occurrences that evening that made me wonder about respect and their lack of it for me. I felt as if I was the brunt of jokes and maybe I'm too thinned skinned, but I didn't appreciate it. Could it be the wine they were drinking? I don't know. But by the time we got home last night, I felt 100 yrs old.

Dealing with depression is a day-to-day adventure. Some days are red-letter days which mean I actually got dressed and went somewhere. Then there are the days where I have no purpose or meaning to my life. Yesterday was a good day until I started to really brood about the behind the hand remarks and other little slights. Now, that is not their fault. I have learned a long time ago that how I choose to react in certain situations is MY choice. My first reaction was to feel that the world would be better off without me, my kids don't love me, my brother can't stand me, I can't work, we're losing the house...yadda, yadda, yadda...

My brain is wired to go into a tailspin when it receives vibes it perceives to be harmful. It's up to me and the serotonin-based meds I take to correct the path those thoughts take and make sure I pull up on the throttle and keep from crashing. It's just so dratted hard!!!

I'm not going to put on a red hat and wear purple. I refuse. To my way of thinking that's advertising, "I'm old!" But I can put on my jeans, my funky new boots and listen to some jazz or Hootie and the Blowfish and cool my jets. (I don't know where all of these airplane analogies are coming from!) "Old" is a state of mind and, while I do not have any intention of wearing hip-hugger pants or going without undies in public (or a bra for that matter!) I ain't done yet!