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The years speed up the older that you become,my mother used to tell me that when I was a little girl and I never believed her. How could they? Speed up? Slow down? But they really do,they speed bye as though they are racing for the finish line. Maybe they are. Once you hit 30 they just start racing by,faster and faster just to get to the end of the line. It seems odd that the best years of your life are the shortest ones.

You tend to have more things figured out,some money in the bank, the kids have left the nest and hopefully this is the last time for them. There always seemed to be a hard time in there and one of the other had to move back in "just for a couple weeks".Of course we say. Plans of the extra bedroom put on hold one more time. Who knows how long it will be this time. We were looking forward to that spare room becoming an office space with our computers, bookshelves and lots of storage. I guess that the computers are just fine where they are. And then there is the issue of privacy. What is that anyway? PRIVACY. Sounds like something that you have earn, or only some are granted the privilege to receive it. When the kids were small the bathroom door was never shut,they followed me everywhere. Even there. Nothing was sacred,nothing was secret and everything was shared. As they grew up they could be left for periods of time and bathroom breaks became a gift from above. Older still and you would have time to light a candle if you wanted and grab a magazine. Life was becoming easier and slowing down,or so I thought.
Just as things got better and better,I realized how fast my life was going by. Racing by without any remorse. I could not believe this was happening. I had never been happier in my life and now I could not keep up. I was chasing life. And I was getting old doing it. Aging. I am fine with aging and love my own skin, but it has not always been that way. I had an eating disorder in my 20s and early 30s,which was very destructive and cost me a lot in the way of hurting my marriage,my health and my emotional self. It took until my very late 30s before I was fully and successfully healed. I had always felt fat and ugly no matter how thin I was. At one point I was hospitalized for a collapsed lung and many times for blood transfusions. I did have a very rough go of things in my life feeling that I was never good enough,that I could never measure up. I would always compare myself to others and then get depressed. I would torture myself with not

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