I wake up confused. There is just a hint of light coming through the window amidst a cloudy, dark sky. But there’s enough light to get through the crack in my eyelids.

You see, since I was a baby I sleep with my eyes not quite closed all the way. My mom says it used to shock her because I look dead when I sleep. But for me it means the smallest bit of light can keep me from falling asleep or cause me to wake up. Like now.

What time is it? I wonder.

Then I panic. Oh shit! Am I late for a meeting?

I grab my phone from the bedside table and quickly rub my finger over the biometric panel to turn it on. 6:46.

Why didn’t my alarm go off? Wait, what day is it?

I close my eyes to get my bearings and thoughts.

It’s okay. It’s Saturday, I realize.

Exhaling a deep-held breath, I stare at the ceiling. I should get up. But I feel unmotivated to move. My body feels heavy. And I feel like I could sleep more. However, I know sleep will elude me thanks to that adrenaline burst from thinking it was a work day.

I analyze how I’m feeling. Am I depressed? I wonder.

I don’t know, since I’ve never been diagnosed with depression. But I think it must feel similar. A numbness like you wish the world would just disappear.

What happened to that jump out of bed and greet the world Margi I used to know? I ask myself.

I AM EXHAUSTED AND UNMOTIVATED

My mood has not shifted since last night, when I changed plans to go out with a friend and stayed home by myself instead. Ate pizza, drank wine, and watched two chick flicks that made me bawl my eyes out.

This heaviness has been weighing me down for weeks now.

“Get UP!” I say out loud, forcing myself out of bed.

As I stand up, I see two piles of clothes near my dresser. One dirty pile and one clean. It’s always a bad sign when I don’t have the energy to put dirty clothes in the hamper or put away the clean ones. I sigh but don’t make any attempt to pick up the clothes.

I can at least wash the sheets, I tell myself.

Stripping the sheets off the bed, I throw them in a pile near the door on my way to the bathroom. I’ll put them in the washer when I go downstairs.

I pull out the scale and stand on it to get validation that this heaviness is not just figurative. 149.9 pounds. I just stare at the number. I’ve been flirting with 150 for weeks now, somehow always managing to get it back down to 145 and then back up to just under the ominous number.

Ten pounds over my target weight. I know for 5’10”, 150 is not that big a deal, and I’m sure there are people reading this saying, “Fuck you, Margaret.” It’s all relative.

However, if you’ve been athletic and thin your whole life, then being ten or twenty pounds over weight feels like crap.

MAYBE IT’S POST-MENOPAUSAL GRAVITY

Frankly, the situation would be worse if not for the fact that I consistently eat healthy. For ten years or so, I have maintained a gluten free, mostly lactose free, paleo-ish, Bulletproof diet (okay, other than maybe the wine).

Am I perfect? No. But, I eat mostly whole, natural, organic foods, with only good fat and carbs. Accordingly, I adhere to all the politically-correct characteristics: free range, grass fed, gluten free, paleo-friendly, non-GMO, low or no sugar, and definitely no high-fructose corn syrup. Lord, I’m pretty sure a sip of that sends you straight to hell.

I look at my body in the mirror. My three ½-inch scars from my hernia surgery look red and irritated this morning, just like my mood. Other than that, it’s not horrible. Boobs are still mostly firm. My neck isn’t too wrinkled yet. Full head of hair.

But the inner critic takes over. It’s clear everything is moving down. Gravity is taking over. Plus, I am definitely getting a belly. I have that 3-months pregnant look.

Then, as I turn around to look at my body from another angle, I see the real issue. No wonder my pants are all feeling tight. My butt, love handles and hips seem to be taking on a life of their own.

I snort as I hear the lyrics to that classic Baby Got Back song in my head: “I like big butts, and I cannot lie!” Definitely more love to hold onto! Well, at least I haven’t completely lost my sense of humor.

MY LIGHT IS NOT SHINING

I need a walk on the beach  to get out of the house. Breathe the salty, misty air and feel the wind in my face. Get my blood pumping.

I’ve barely left the house all week. Up at 4 a.m. every morning with 4:30 or 5 a.m. calls starting the day and then in meetings all day. Finish up 12 hours later, only to be ready for a glass of wine. Or two. It’s a vicious cycle.

Then it hits me. I have been here before. I know what this is. I’m not depressed. I’m just in one of those dark cycles. I have let my light fade. My body and mind are just like the weather outside, where the sun is just a muted soft yellow glow barely able to shine through at all – stuck behind a sky full of gray clouds.

I am not doing anything for myself to shine my light. All I’m doing is getting up, working all day, having a drink and eating dinner, and going to bed.

I know this dark period is nowhere near as bad as the first time, which culminated in me curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor crying. Little did I know at that time I was pre-menopausal and suffering from major hormone deficiency, in addition to having developed a gluten intolerance and hypothyroidism. All of which resulted in significant weight gain, inflammation, stomach issues, and lethargy. It was not a light-filled time.

HEALTH, DIET AND EXERCISE PLAY A PART

I think back to that first meeting with my naturopath, who looked shocked as he reviewed my blood test results, showing everything going on with me.

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. Most people would not even be getting out of bed with the combination of things wrong with you,” he said. “Let alone be raising children and working 60 hours a week. No wonder you look and feel like shit.” (yeah, he was my perfect doctor soul mate.) Just imagine how great you will feel when we get all this fixed,” he assured me.

He was right. Over the following six months, I completely changed my diet, started hormone treatment, and began finding the right medicine for my thyroid. I started losing weight and gaining energy, which gave me the motivation to work out again.

That period also launched my whole mission to rediscover and shine my light, because I realized it wasn’t just physical issues that were affecting my health and outlook on life. I had lost something deeper. Something fundamental to who I am.

Since then, I’ve had these shorter, less daunting periods I call my dark episodes. They are not as dark, don’t last as long, and are easier to climb back out of.

Frankly, they are also good reminders of why we have to keep doing the hard work to be true to who we are and not let the world swallow us up.

REMEMBERING WHAT BRINGS ME JOY

I do a mental checklist of all the things I started doing again during that period of rediscovery; things that bring me joy:

• My music and singing
• Driving my mustang, a little too fast, on long drives by myself
• Writing – not for work, but for me
• Horse riding
• Spending time with girlfriends
• Hanging out with my children
• Romantic time with my husband
• Working out and feeling strong
• Walking on the beach

Then, I start thinking about which of these I am successfully doing now.

The reality? Not many.

And too few of them all.

When was the last time I took the pony out for a drive on the winding coastal highway? It’s been months.

I almost went up to the piano last night after watching a movie, but then just poured myself more wine and hit Netflix for a second film.

I did have a girl’s night out this week with a new woman friend here in town who I really like. That did help. And we both said we needed to do it more often.

My hubby and I are mostly good at remembering how to connect and discuss our relationship, but we could definitely do better. We’ve let some of the habits we learned from the Marriage Workshop we took years ago drop off. More sex always puts me in a better mood, and I know that suggestion will receive strong support from my partner.

Overall, if I’m to be honest with myself, I’m letting work consume me. With all the kids out of the house, it’s easy to let my boundaries slip.

FINDING LIGHT THROUGH INTENTIONAL ACTIONS

Most importantly, I have no set workout routine. Or a routine of any kind. Traveling 50 percent or more of the time doesn’t help.

As if I need a reminder, I look at my arms in the mirror. Not long ago, I had those amazing sculpted muscles. Not quite Michelle Obama’s arms, but some pretty sleek guns. Now, I see old lady flabby skin emerging underneath my arms. I remember telling my former personal trainer, Hector, that my goal was to never have flabby old lady arms or a sagging butt. I miss Hector. He kicked my butt in a good way, plugging into my competitive spirit, and had me doing 5 pull-ups within 3 months of training. I bet I couldn’t even do one pull-up right now.

I know I’m not the only one who’s noticed my dimmed light. Some of my team members at work have even asked me if I’m okay. My husband sees it, and I’m sure he feels it.

Okay, enough self analysis for the day, I tell myself. It’s time for action. You know what you need to do to get that light back.

First step, get dressed and get your butt outside, walking on the beach. I remind myself how blessed we are to be living on the ocean in this beautiful house.

A POWER WALK ON THE BEACH

Dressed in my ninja black waterproof sweats and jacket, I grab my neon green baseball cap to cover my bed head hair. I put in my waterproof earbuds in and find Pandora on my phone – a song from Wicked fills my head. Perfect.

This is definitely a day for my waterproof hiking shoes, as it’s been raining for two days now at the beach.

Opening the garage door, I walk outside and pull on my neoprene waterproof gloves. I start taking deep breaths as I meander across our stone path toward the beach trail, already feeling better.

The song switches to Dr Dre’s “I Need a Doctor”, which seems appropriate. The hip hop beat gets my feet moving faster and my arms pumping. By the time I reach the hard sand near the waves, I am traveling at my power walk pace.

It’s raining lightly, but the drops hitting my face are therapeutic – they are waking me up.

The beach is mostly empty except for a couple of other locals walking their dogs. I need a dog, I say in my head for the thousandth time this year. Once you stop traveling so much you can get a dog, I remind myself of the deal my husband and I have made. But every time I walk on the beach, I miss the dog I don’t have.

FINDING LIGHT TAKES HARD WORK

A new song begins, so quietly at first I don’t know what it is. But as the lyrics get louder, I smile and start singing along. Small tears escape as the words from the Greatest Showman become the truth of the moment.

From now on

These eyes will not be blinded by the lights

From now on

What’s waited till tomorrow starts tonight

Tonight

Let this promise in me start

Like an anthem in my heart

From now on

From now on

I start creating this blog post in my head and can’t wait to get home and let my fingers take over for my brain. When this happens, I usually don’t stop typing for 30 minutes, as if I’m possessed with a story that just must be released.

I return home after a four mile walk on the beach, and I am revived. But I know there is work to be done today and this week (and the rest of my life) to get my light back on the shining path.

Then, as if the universe hears my plea for help, a colleague calls me.

“I just want you to know what an incredible leader you are and what a positive impact you’ve had on me and the company,” he says.

WTF? Who says that? I think, as his words bring tears to my eyes. I am speechless. How does the universe always know what to send you when you ask for help?

While talking to him, I get text messages from two of my sons and a young woman friend in town. All of it reminds me why I am here. And then, my husband calls to let me know he’s on his way home. He’s been out of town for a couple days playing golf with friends.

With silent thanks, I pour myself a strong cup of coffee, sit down at my laptop, and start writing.

LIGHT AND DARKNESS MOVE IN CYCLES

My day ends with my young girlfriend and her boyfriend coming over for a make-your-own pizza night. A favorite dinner with our own children that we haven’t done in too long.

Nurturing others always takes me out of my own head and problems. We are laughing, cooking, and eating yummy caesar salad and our own private pizzas.

As I go to bed, I lie awake listening to my husband’s snores, the waves, the wind and the rain. I take some deep breaths. I forgive myself.

Tomorrow is a new day and another chance to heal, learn, and shine.

I know I will have more dark days, weeks or months. Life happens. We are imperfect. However, I also can have more self-awareness, and not let them continue for so long. Listen to the cues around me. Watch for signs of slipping back down into the darkness.

GIVING YOURSELF PERMISSION TO SHINE

To rediscover and shine your light doesn’t just happen. It takes intentional thoughts, actions, and words. And humility – to recognize and embrace our failings.

But most importantly, it takes forgiveness of yourself and others, so you can start over, move forward, and be that person in all your glory you were meant to be.

Shine on!!