Somewhere along the line I lost myself. I am not sure when it happened. I think it was in 2006. My health started going downhill. My personal life imploded. My Grandmother died. I quit my job. Everything that up until that point had been a given disappeared. And I did not take it well. And it never got any better. I have yet to recover. I am a slow healer.
So now here I sit. This beige non-person. The boring color of every empty apartment I have ever seen. I have no job. I never see my friends. The only friend I ever do see is practically a recluse and I can never get her out of her damn house. All my other friends live 40 or more minutes away and I can’t afford to go see them.
I don’t have anyone in my life that is in the same spot anymore. Everyone is married or has kids and I have nothing in common with their lives. I don’t know how to make it work. It just feels awkward and uncomfortable, like my shoes are too small and my pants are too tight. There is nothing to talk about and it all seems forced.
All I want is to move forward. I am stuck in this place and I have no idea how to escape. I tried church. I tried school. None of it hit the spot. I know these things aren’t a substitute for what is empty in me but I thought meeting some new people would be nice. But nothing and no one stuck. It was all passing in the night.
What I need is some damn therapy but I don’t have insurance. Damnit.
I am not sure what I want to do and at the same time there are so many things I want to do.
When I die I don’t want the story of my life to be three chapters long and say “I stayed at home a lot”.
I want adventures. And love. And friends. And passion. And laughter. And good food. And good health. I want to hike mountains. Have my pilots license. Maybe have a kid. I don’t know.
So where does one start?