Non sum qualis eram, Horace begins his Ode 4.1. "I'm not what I was." My dear, we all feel that way, at least sometimes, and it's a horrible feeling. I'm twice your age, and I often think this. In my case it has to be true, doesn't it? But no, there are other metaphors that work better. We're crossing a threshold or bridge on a journey; we're facing trials or temptations on a quest; we're refining the dross from our gold in a crucible. And it's hard. And it hurts.

If you want to hold on to the shipwreck theme, maybe add heaps and mounds of buried treasure, too. That's you, Daisy, and all your readers see it.

Wishing you all the best.