Depression, Muscles, and "Did My Tooth Just Fall Out?"

Photo by Denny S. Bryce

Orlando, FL, February 2010

My best friend and I were having our semi-monthly Friday lunch. Both of us are in the same industry - making bucks organizing other people’s lives - well, we’re also both over 50 (and my admitting that much is a dead giveaway that I’m clearly more than a bit over!) But yesterday, on our way to lunch, we were in a very cheery frame of mind, laughing about some silly comment I’d made about my day, when something small, white and almost pearly, appeared to fall out of my month. We both paused, looked at each other with a shocked expression on our faces, and I said, “Did my tooth just fall out?”

“Girl, no.” She shook her head, then frowned. “I don’t think so.”

“Shit,” I said. “I know I’m getting old, but Christ, I hope my tooth didn’t just fall out.”

Of course, it wasn’t my tooth. A stone from my dangly, fancy earrings had fallen off. But it’s just been one of those years - or at least the past six months - where my first thoughts immediately jump to the bottom of the list - and if it has to do with my body -- something failing or falling off is expected.

It’s been one of those periods in life when every move is an ache, and the thought of exercising, a sure journey to pain and suffering.

And yeah, I’ve been to the doctor -- we both have -- and we’ve had check-ups, and know the deal so to speak about our respective health issues - but that’s not the point.

We have to face the fact -- we are aging. It’s right there - smacking us in the face (wrinkles and dark circles included), we don’t look the same and we can’t do all of the things we used to do.

But we act and think pretty much the same as we have since we were eighteen years old. (Yeah, this friend of mine and me have been buds practically since high school).

Well, we’ve decided to find time to take better care of ourselves - successful career woman shit aside. I'm exploring exercise plans (‘right, exploring:)...and am getting started with my Saturday by getting on a treadmill.

Then I’m going to spend a week avoiding meat, and watching my salt intake. I read that another good thing to do is to avoid ‘white’ foods - sugar, flour, rice, cheese, if it ain’t showing me color - it ain’t going in my mouth.

What does all of this have to do with writing? You’ve got to have energy to write. I’ve been sitting on my ass for most of every day for the past six months, working. And not all of that time (okay, very little of it) has been spent moving forward fast enough on my novel. So I’m going to put it down for a few weeks and start working on a new story. Just to give myself a break from feeling like I’m not being productive. 

Long way around just to give my self a pep talk, huh?