I think there's a particular anxiety women experience when confronted with aging.  Even though I am still pretty young, I've started feeling it too.  It kind of feels like a pipe is slowly leaking and causing water to rise up past your ankles, your knees, your chest, your head.
My great-grandma made this bathrobe in the 60s/70s. I've been wearing it for years and tattering it with use. This November I was looking at the falling leaves and they inspired me to take this photo.  Unlike the trees, my own beloved objects will not grow back pieces of themselves, and I am also getting irreversibly older. This made me feel grumpy. This selfie reflects those thoughts but also shows that there's a kind of mystical power in getting old, in the idea that there's no going back. 
With this photo I wanted to tell myself that aging isn't at all like drowning.
the pond is deceptively deep
my great-grandma's hand stitching coming undone