Compare and Contrast

This is about now as compared to ten years ago.

Now I have a job where I'm working six hours a day and I come home exhausted from it.
Ten years ago I had one full-time job and two part-time jobs and came home exhausted from them.

Now I walk to and from work, about a mile round-trip.
Ten years ago I walked to and from work, about a two mile round-trip. My full-time job was preceded by a two-mile walk on a morning paper route and followed by a four-mile walk on an afternoon paper route. The morning paper was seven days a week, the afternoon paper six days a week.

Now I'm overweight by about 40 pounds.
Ten years ago I was gaining weight even though I walked 8 miles most days. The weight gain wasn't becuz I was starting up walking; I'd been doing the four-mile route for three years. I believe it was a shift in my metabolism due to pre-menopause.

Now I'm recovering from three years of various injuries to my knees, ankles, and hips.
Ten years ago I would get up and walk away from a twisted ankle that resulted in a fall.

Now I know what a 'sedentary lifestyle' is.
Ten years ago I wasn't sure that I was 'active'.

Enough of compare/contrast. I've been writing mostly about physical ?symptoms?. I haven't written about the emotional storms that affected me. Ten years ago I was much stronger emotionally and spiritually than I am now. I am recovering my strength in those areas also.

1997 was a hell of a year. Accent on the 'hell' part.

*My son was sentenced to 50 years in prison.
*Lost my job of 17 years due to a plant closing.
*Started junior college fall of '97.
*My father died in December.

My son's imprisonment at 19 years of age was devastating to me. Followed six months later by the death of my beloved father... more than I could handle.

In April of 1998 my kids' paternal grandfather died; a man I'd known since I was 5 years old. In January of 1999 my stepfather died, 13 months after my father passed away. I was nowhere near recovering from my dad's death after a year. When my stepdad died I still felt as if it were yesterday that my dad had died.

On the advice of a trusted counselor I began taking Prozac. That was interesting, to say the least. I know that other anti-depressants have been developed since then and some are way more effective than Prozac. Safer, too. But Prozac did what I needed at the time, which was to give me some distance from the emotional pain.

My friend Pudgy was concerned about the changes Prozac made in my personality.
He said "I don't know who this person is in your body."

I replied "This is the person I need to be. Cuz this person doesn't hurt so much." He had been thru all the trauma and grief with me, my dear friend, and understood.

He told me "I like Janice. I'm sorry that she hurts so much." I said "Me, too." So we turned a tear-jerker into a bit of sarcasm and knew that all would be well.

I do not know how I managed to continue to go to school or do anything else. Certainly I felt paralyzed by grief. I guess years of doing what had to be done got me thru that time. While I did take Prozac for six months, thru all that time of grief and emotional pain I did not drink alcohol.