A Shadow of My Former Self

Last night I had dinner with a woman (I'll call her Cassie) I used to know back at the BIG job on the 14th floor. We weren't really friends and our jobs never really crossed paths, but we would occasionally chat at social events. A nice woman, accomplished at her job, Cassie had always been thin, jovial, confident. But when I ran into her almost 2 weeks ago after not having seen her in almost 2 years, I hardly recognized her. She looked like she had gained about 50 pounds on her small frame, and her face looked vacant. It was a look I recognized that I used to have.

When I approached Cassie, she livened up, and we caught up for a few minutes. Then we agreed to meet for dinner. We talked about a bit about my journey to here and now, and where she had been on her journey. Successful on the outside, she felt a wreck on the inside. She'd had some medical problems that led her to surgery and a long, painful recovery. The pain became debilitating and she then needed antidepressants to help her cope with her physical ailments. Her problems grew from there. Now on 4 prescriptions to get through the day, plus Xanax for panic attacks, I was not surprised she looked numb. That was how I felt when I was on 2 SSRIs.

It seemed that everything she said I had experienced something similar. But I cannot get over the physicality of Cassie's suffering. The vacant stare when not directly engaged, the nervous darting eyes, the tense shoulders that, as my yoga instructor would say, invade her neck. There was nothing about Cassie that said relaxed.

Two years ago that was me. It was like looking in a time mirror. And it made me realize how far I had come to living a different, happy, contented life and how solid my foundation really is.

We'll have dinner again soon. While she maybe seeking help and guidance from me, Cassie will help me reflect on my transformation.