This is Not My Beautiful Life

I know no better way to describe my recent headspace than this:

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Most especially:

How did I get here?
Am I right? Am I wrong?
Oh *%&$ What have I done?

Yeah, that would be my brain right about now.

A couple weeks ago, though, I broke. And I don't say that lightly.

I won't burden (or bore) anyone with details. Let's just say I should have been at the hospital for a few days. I wasn't, I survived, I'm back on track.

But the break was real and is, as yet, unhealed. So here I am.

I recently turned 38, and I am no longer a young mother of young children. I am quickly moving into the middle stage of mothering. I am overweight. My house is a disaster. I need to build my own career. And, most of all, I am desperate to redefine and rediscover myself.

More than 20 years of depression. 17 years of survival-mode. More years than I want to admit publicly of taking what life threw at me and only making the best of it day-to-day.

So now I'm giving myself 100 days to fix all that.
Yep, 100 days.

I will make one change or do one new thing every day--and write about it here. There will be pictures and perhaps even videos. All with the goal of recognizing myself again at the end of it.

Wanna follow along? Great! All the days (and periodic check-ins) will be posted here on my blog, so check back often and watch for updates on Facebook and Instagram.

Here we go!

P.S. I couldn't decide whether I should put a picture here of jumping off a cliff or of climbing a huge mountain--both seemed to describe what I'm feeling as I start this journey. Then, I found this picture. Yep, pretty sure what I'm doing is a belly-flop onto sand. Whee!!