Rantings of a Grumpy Old Woman

Age is nothing but a number... or so they say. In my case, well, in everyone's case, these numbers seem to be climbing at a rapid rate. Tomorrow marks another trip around the Earth for me, and I turn 39 years old. Thirty. Nine. I honestly never thought about aging much before. I never thought about what it would be like to be older and actually look or feel older. In my head, I'm still in my late teens/early twenties. When I look in the mirror, I still don't see a 39 year old woman... until I look closer. Upon closer inspection, I see the fine lines in my face. I can see the bunch of lines around my mouth. I see the collection of lines around my eyes. I see the wisps of gray hair that peek out while I'm in between root touch-ups with my hair dye. Not only can I see the tell-tale signs of aging, but I feel them as well. I feel as though my energy has dropped significantly... even worse than normal. I hear my joints crack and pop when I move after long periods, soundi...

I don't feel good. Ever. I feel like there is always something wrong. Some nagging feeling of malaise or random illness coursing through my body. Granted, I have had a lot of health issues within the last few years. A lot of procedures done. Just.. really random things between side effects of my WLS, to mouth problems, to hip surgery. I feel like I am too young to be falling apart like this. My birthday is next week, and I'm really getting up there in age. Like... really getting up there, and I feel every bit of it. However I know most of the reason that I feel like crap. I. Don't. Take. Care. Of. Myself. You see, this surgery that I had... the one that stripped away 110 lbs from my body, has been awesome. I have a fresh start, and the ability to take charge of my health and have full control over what I put in my body and what I do with it. However, I continue to defile it. I consistently pour soda down my throat. I snack on chips, cookies, whatever I can get my hand...