| badblood44 ( @ 2006-03-22 16:59:00 |
Void
Is there such a thing as a mid-life crisis? I suppose you’d actually have to have a life as well as some estimate of when it will end to make that determination. Some data would suggest that average life expectancy is around the 76-year mark. In April, I’ll turn 38.
Internally, I like to think I’m as young as ever. External signs tell me otherwise. My eldest child turns 8 in March. At the end of March, I’ll have completed 16 full years at the company for whom I work. Sixteen years.
I’m old.
I ache too. I think every joint in my body is rebelling against the activities I perform on a regular basis. My knee hurts. My shoulder stings. My elbow is tweaked. And my wrist is sore. The recovery ability of my over-worked body has abandoned me long ago. I’ve altered my workout plan to emphasize lighter weights at more reps.
Because I’m old.
I can look around me and feel more than satisfied that what I’m doing is making a difference. I’m making a decent living so my family can live without want. My kids deserve all that they get; and I have no regrets about the decisions I’ve made in my life such that theirs is everything it can be.
But I think a little piece of me dies each day. I am hesitant to put my needs above those of my family. It’s very easy to suppress your own needs when you don’t even know what they are yourself.
I’m old.
Is there such a thing as a mid-life crisis? I suppose you’d actually have to have a life as well as some estimate of when it will end to make that determination. Some data would suggest that average life expectancy is around the 76-year mark. In April, I’ll turn 38.
Internally, I like to think I’m as young as ever. External signs tell me otherwise. My eldest child turns 8 in March. At the end of March, I’ll have completed 16 full years at the company for whom I work. Sixteen years.
I’m old.
I ache too. I think every joint in my body is rebelling against the activities I perform on a regular basis. My knee hurts. My shoulder stings. My elbow is tweaked. And my wrist is sore. The recovery ability of my over-worked body has abandoned me long ago. I’ve altered my workout plan to emphasize lighter weights at more reps.
Because I’m old.
I can look around me and feel more than satisfied that what I’m doing is making a difference. I’m making a decent living so my family can live without want. My kids deserve all that they get; and I have no regrets about the decisions I’ve made in my life such that theirs is everything it can be.
But I think a little piece of me dies each day. I am hesitant to put my needs above those of my family. It’s very easy to suppress your own needs when you don’t even know what they are yourself.
I’m old.