Some days, you just have to tell your story. Here is part of mine.
I reached a point in life where it looked like I had everything more or less worked out. I had a good job, was financially stable, had a family, etc. There was only one problem, I was deeply miserable. I didn't actually know how miserable I was - I distracted myself by parenting, working, quilting, baking, socializing, shopping, and exercising. The first time I had an inkling that something was wrong was during my first yoga class taught by a friend of mine. It was a small group of ladies, and we started by sitting and just breathing. Cross-legged on my mat, listening to something soothing and new age-y, I realised that I hadn't been alone with my thoughts in a long time, and I started crying. I didn't want to spend one solitary moment with myself, and it broke my heart.
That was ten years and what feels like a million tears, and smiles, and screams, and open-mouthed, full-out, loud, laughing fits ago, and I still feel like my journey is only beginning.