What Is It All About?

What Is It All About?

19th January 2017

It’s early morning and the drizzly, dull excuse for winter daylight is starting to penetrate through the light bedroom curtains. As I emerge rather groggily from what was yet another restless, fitful sleep, I remember with trepidation that today is my fifty seventh birthday, and I am yet another year closer to the big SIX O!

Pulling the duvet over my head to shut out the cold winter air and life in general, I contemplate mine for what must be the millionth time lately.

Isn’t this meant to be the time of life when a woman should be enjoying her grandchildren and planning her retirement and even Saga Holidays with her husband?! At least that’s how I always envisaged my life would be at this point in my journey. But like so much of my life it hasn’t turned out quite like I’d expected.

Last week I reluctantly gave up my hotel business after years of struggling to keep it afloat amid the banking crisis and the recession. Four weeks ago I lost my dog; my soul mate and companion of twelve years; and less than four months ago I suddenly lost my best friend; my wonderful mum.

Husband number two went more than a decade ago after he had an affair with a young bimbo and a nasty and painful divorce ensued. He has never been replaced; albeit not for the want of trying, but you can only kiss so many frogs.  And the promised 2.3 children were never forthcoming.

So apart from my home which I love, but which comes with a huge mortgage and is suddenly so empty without my mum or my dog,  I realise I have no anchor; no purpose and nothing to define who I am.

So Where Do I Go From Here?

I see that I have two choices here:

  1. I could remain under my duvet and succumb to the nasty little black creature that has parked itself in my psyche,  relentlessly running amuck through my thoughts and emotions, filling me with an overwhelming feeling of loss and despair. Its constant negative suggestions and whisperings badger me to face the worthlessness of my life now,  beckoning me to follow it down into its festering black pit.
  2. Or I could fight back!  Acknowledge that the little black creature has a right to roam around my psyche for a while, helping me in its strange and dark way to process and eventually heal from the sadness and pain of my losses, but don’t allow it control me and draw me into its festering black pit.

Life is what you make of it and I strongly believe in the power of positive thoughts and positive attitude.  I also believe that your fate is already written and in the words of my very Scottish mother “Whit’s fir you Winnae  Ging Passed Ye Darlin!”

So here I am, at the age of 57 years, embarking on a completely new chapter of my life.  I have no idea what is ahead of me.  I am struggling to come to terms with all of my losses; I am scared; I am constantly questioning life and I have cried so much lately that I have eczema on my eyelids and tear tracks!  I’ve even got it on my forehead where I have anxiously rubbed so much –  a great big red blotch right there fore everyone to see (thank goodness for makeup) – and it is around my nose where I have blown the snot away too often!  My weight has ballooned, I drink too much wine and I’ve lost my fitness – I am a physical and emotional mess!

But I carry my physical and emotional mess as a testament to the depth of my love and commitment to all that I have lost.

And there are four things I know for sure –

  1. I am deeply loved by my family and friends
  2. Painful as they are, my losses are the natural progression of life; My Mum was 79 years old and considering she was a 60 a day smoker for years, her health remained good until her heart gave out – and Nelson, my dog was a very respectable 12 years old when he passed.
  3. There are many, many, many people in the world experiencing far worse pain and real despair, which I couldn’t even begin to comprehend compared to mine.
  4. I will survive!!

So moving on from all of the “woe is me” stuff and in the absence of any other plans I am going to take a bit of time to re-adjust in the world.

I will be without an hotel for the first time in thirty five years but I am going to follow my huge passion in life and feed my wanderlust.

I am going to attempt to blog while I go, linking my trips with my knowledge of hospitality and tourism and perhaps realise a long held fantasy of being a writer.  I might even be able to inspire other middle aged people who find themselves at a frightening crossroads in their lives and hopefully I’ll even earn a small income along the way to cover my mortgage!

So I guess that makes me a middle aged, barehotelier, solo travel blogger!!!