Born to Be an English Major
When I decided to go to college as a forty-something, there was no question in my mind that I would be an English major. I was born to be an English major. Still, I had no idea that the journey I was embarking on would change me forever. I anticipated a degree that would broaden my job opportunities. I did not expect that every belief I’d ever held would be challenged, or that I’d be forced to ponder the merits of my beliefs.
An Empty Nester
After a series of unfortunate events and a hair-raising divorce, I found myself a middle-aged, empty nester. My job skills were those of an administrative assistant. Additionally, I was treading the waters of debilitating depression with no relief in sight. It was time to take a long, practical look at my life, so I did.
Anxiety, Depression, and College
I sought treatment for depression and enrolled in college. As daunting as the four years of higher education seemed, at least I would be doing something for the next four years. High anxiety, coupled with my depression, made the mere idea of taking face-to-face classes and interacting with people intimidating. So, I opted to take my freshman year of college online, comfortably tucked away in an oversized chair in my tiny house on seventeen acres.