I recently received some rather devastating news. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t ready, but the facts were there, and I was forced to face them. I’m coping as well as could be expected and am just holding back the melancholy and depression, but it hasn’t been easy to adjust or acknowledge reality. I’d much prefer to go back to the way things were before and live oblivious to the truth, but we can’t go back and live in the past.
I always knew that this day would come, but I thought I could easily hold it off until after I turned 40. I thought I had time to mentally cope and brace myself for future alterations. Unfortunately, that is not to be the case. I’m there already. It’s time to embrace the truth. I’m currently only 4 feet 11 and 5/8 inches (sniffle, sniffle). Yep, I’m now officially under 5 feet tall. SIGH!
I’ve lost part of my self, and I don’t think I’ll get it back. I’m shrinking, and it’s not the good kind of shrinkage that I’ve been working so hard at. No, the inches lost are all height, which basically means that I’m getting more and more compact and losing weight is going to be more difficult. Just great!
But life must go on. I can’t get my pinnacle back. My peak days are gone, and all the wishing in the world cannot return my glory days to me. It’s time to let it go and walk on as tall as I can manage. Perhaps I need to stop sporting my ballet shoes and sporty extra-comfy Sketchers and go straight for the platform or stiletto heels. Yeah! That’s me. Next time you see me, I might be limping your direction or have a seriously sprained ankle or two, but I’ll be walking proud and tall. HA!
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