40, fabulous, and fumbling

a hilarious and chaotic ride

While everyone's out there chanting 'new year, new me,' I'm over here having a serious heart-to-heart with life. My 40s have decided to throw a full-blown wrestling match, and let me tell you, life is winning. I've gained a solid 20 pounds, I'm in a constant battle with fatigue, and if life were a pool, I'd be the one barely managing to keep my head above the water.

I'm thinking, where's the manager? Can I get a refund on this whole 40s experience? Maybe trade it in for a vacation? Because, honestly, this train I'm on feels more like a rollercoaster I didn't sign up for. Somebody hit the emergency stop button; I'm ready to get off!!!!

So, let's rewind to the beginning, shall we? In August 2021, I kicked off my grand 40th birthday with a week of activities that included a brunch, a photoshoot, not one but two bar nights, a sun-soaked beach day, and the pièce de résistance – a turnt-up old school house party. I was on cloud nine, embracing the fabulousness that comes with turning the big 4-0. While some of my counterparts were having a mid-life crisis, I was convinced the best was yet to come.

I had been prepping for this milestone since two years prior, strutting into my 40s with confidence. Life was treating me well – excelling at both of my jobs, feeling fantastic about my body, and boasting a youthful glow. Fast forward three months, and reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Turns out, I'd been duped. The big 4-0 had some surprises in store, and let's just say, it wasn't the fabulousness I had envisioned.

My eyesight started playing hide-and-seek.

One fateful morning, I woke up and, out of the blue, realized I was squinting. It was a sneak attack on my eyesight, and suddenly, I found myself squint-reading everything.

Little did I know, I was in the clutches of a villain called presbyopia, the eye condition that typically ambushes you around the age of 40. It's like my eyes decided to take an early retirement without consulting me first. Presbyopia is the sneaky bandit that steals your eye lens flexibility, turning even the most straightforward tasks into optical obstacle courses.

Now, you might be wondering if I've rushed to the eye doctor for a superhero-worthy pair of prescription glasses. The short answer? Nope. Why, you ask? Well, I haven't quite figured that out yet. Maybe it's my defient spirit, or perhaps I've formed a secret alliance with blurry vision. Who knows? But before you throw judgment my way, let's agree that I'll make the pilgrimage to the eye doctor when I'm good and ready. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Hopefully, I won't go fully blind before then – fingers crossed, right?

My hydration status began dispatching S.O.S. signals

About a month into the grand adventure that is my forties, I decided to join the ranks of the running enthusiasts. Picture this: me, pounding the pavement, feeling like I'm on top of the world, or at least the top of the hill.

Now, fast forward to one fine afternoon, three months into my newfound love for running. I suddenly morphed into a dizzy, delirious mess and, surprise, ended up fainting like a damsel in distress. Cue the dramatic music.

Enter my youngest sister, the unsung hero of this comedic saga. She whips up a concoction of electrolytes and water, rescuing me from the brink of dehydration-induced doom. At this point, I was feeling so fatigued I was scared shitless – cue the imaginary horror movie soundtrack.

Being the responsible adult I am, I promptly consulted the oracle of self-diagnosis, also known as WebMD. According to its prognosis, I apparently had approximately one week left on this earth. Panic mode: engaged.

In a desperate attempt to defy the digital oracle that is WebMD, I scheduled a complete physical and bloodwork with my doctor. The verdict? I was severely dehydrated, like raisin-in-the-sun level dehydrated. My doctor prescribed the ultimate cocktail – guzzling more water, adding B12 and amino acids to boost my white blood cell count, plus a side of iron, Vitamin D, and magnesia for that extra drama.

I get it; as you gracefully age, your body demands more attention and supplements become your trusty sidekicks. The lesson here? Sometimes, life throws you a curveball, and your body decides to pull a surprise party with all the symptoms. In all honesty I wasn't ready for this wild ride.

Then, here comes my body holding an all-day concert, and the playlist is just different variations of "Ouch!"

It all kicked off with some pesky back pains, and soon enough, my ankles decided to join the party, adding a whole new layer of discomfort to my walking. Remember the days when I could gracefully leap out of bed? Yeah, me too. Now, it's more of a tactical roll, complete with a strategic grab onto the side table to hoist myself upright. Sitting too long? Back pain. Standing too long? Still back pain. Even the seemingly straightforward task of taking out the trash feels like I'm competing in a stealthy marathon down the driveway.

I get it; staying active is key. But let's be real – maintaining discipline and sticking to a workouts is like trying to herd cats. Last October, I embarked on the grand return to the running and walking scene, proudly conquering a 5k every day. It was going splendidly until, like a tragic plot twist, my 5:30 AM alarm became the snooze button's best friend, and I found myself opting for the sweet embrace of sleep.

Enter this year's mantra: intention and discipline. So here I am, rekindling my commitment to reignite those workouts. And speaking of commitments, let's move on to the next chapter of this saga...

I need to unbig my back.

At 40, my metabolism decided to take a leisurely vacation, leaving behind a not-so-welcome "souvenir" – extra pounds that now insist on carpooling with me everywhere. I'd heard whispers about the infamous weight gain as people hit their forties, but honestly, I didn't realize it was this real. My weight gain is the guest who crashed the celebration and refuse to leave.

My wardrobe has turned into a silent protest – clothes that once embraced me now play hard to get. I've even had to decline social invitations because my closet is throwing shade, and I'm not about to buy a whole new wardrobe just to appease my rebellious metabolism. I yearn for the days when my dresses, tops, and jeans hugged me like a supportive friend, not a distant memory. I miss my sexy side, which seems to have gone on its own vacation, leaving me here with this unexpected baggage.

Sure, I've been trying to embrace the changes, giving myself pep talks like a motivational speaker. But deep down, I know it's just me stalling on committing to a healthier lifestyle.

I'm not asking for much – just the ability to walk without sounding like I just ran a marathon and feeling fatigue after climbing a flight of stairs. I want to feel strong again.

I am on an ultimate quest for zen in a world full of chaos.

Over the past 2.5 years, amidst all the confusion, my self-confidence took a nosedive. Once upon a time, I was the risk-taking maestro of my social circle, always up for anything. Fast forward to June and November 2022, where I unexpectedly bid adieu to both of my jobs simultaneously. In the midst of this employment exodus, my mental health took a nosedive, leading me to seek therapy and eventually face the scrutiny of a psychiatrist. The verdict? Medication was prescribed, which would then contribute to the less-than-thrilling side effect of weight gain.

Managing my finances resembled a wild rollercoaster ride, and the once unstoppable risk-taker found herself in a slump, with no apparent reason to crack a smile.

Being 40 has felt like entering an alternate reality. Hard professional decisions and a mountain of debt took center stage, dragging me down to my lowest point. This wasn't the grand plan for my 40s; it certainly wasn't the life I envisioned for myself. The entirety of 2023 was a soul-searching expedition, peeling away layers to unearth the root of my predicament.

Enter 2024, the year I've earmarked for a grand rediscovery tour – a quest to find out who I am and what I genuinely want. It's about shedding the deadweight, both metaphorically and literally too. I aim for a sense of completeness. I want my confidence back!

Now, mental health and wellness snag the front seat on my life's journey, guiding me toward a happier and healthier version of myself. This year is all about being intentional and disciplined across every facet of my life. My 40s felt like a runaway train, a surreal experience of being outside my body, watching things unfold without the power to change a thing. It's been a bit too much uncertainty for far too long.

But guess what? This year, I'm reclaiming the controls. My road to well-being is a journey – one filled with laughter, green smoothies, and a happy path just waiting for me.

How about you? Where are you on your wellness journey? And if you are 40 and over, is it kicking your butt too?