Design of a decade

Ten years ago, on Fourth of July weekend, I moved out of my parents' house and into my first apartment, a tiny studio on Main Street in Waltham. It was a 20 x 20' room with a kitchen and bath tacked on, but it was mine. It was a tough transition for me -- I started having bad anxiety attacks, thinking people were breaking in, feeling isolated living alone, etc.

And 1998 was not a good year in general. Within six months, I lost one of my best friends, another dear friend's mom and my own great-grandmother. But it was an important year. Although it was hard, I learned to stand on my own two feet, taking care of myself and my own home. I fought back against almost crippling depression, finally going on the meds I needed all along but had spent far too much energy denying. I finally ended a long-term, toxic relationship. And by the end of the year, I felt like I had emerged victorious.

Fast-forward 10 years. I am now six years married, own my own home, live in a completely different part of the state and have an infant son. The transition from becoming a married lady to a family has also been difficult but worthwhile. And once again, I will emerge victorious.

Ten years gone. Unbelievable.