My birthday is tomorrow. Two years ago I wrote this. While most of that still rings true, I’m struggling overall. How do you live a life with such profound disappointment on its outskirts, clinging like a refusing to let go mother? This is me. This is separate from marriage and motherhood and being a good friend and a wonderful aunt and a great employee and a determined citizen and a voice in the world through this blog. This is about me as a person. And the person I am feels let down by herself and has no idea how to fix it.
Maybe it’s my birthday. It’s another year upon which my ultimate goals in life have not been realized. It’s another year upon which I can complain about that then do nothing to remedy it. I fully realize this is what I’m used to, lachrymosely lamenting life. I know this, though: I think about this all year; it only culminates into my discussing or mentioning it on my birthday (or New Year’s) because it’s such a pointed day. It’s supposed to mean something. I’m supposed to have learned something and be able to show a difference each year.
This year feels much like last year and the year before and the year before felt. I’ve done nothing.
OK, so this isn’t a request for you to remind me of the things I have done. I don’t need that. What I need is a way out of being a 41-year-old who is weighed down by should haves and if onlies. What I need is a way out of not doing. It’s so easy to lie down instead. It’s easy to check Facebook instead. It’s easy to do anything else instead. If anything else meant anything more to me, I’d do it. It’s as simple as that.
I made a list.
I wrote down the things I have to do, need to do, I want to do. Need usually gets eerily similar to and familiar with want, but what I found was outside of the essential eat, sleep, go to work, take care of my family, and pay the bills mostly on time, I was right into want. I want to write. I want to write full time to see if what I think I can create can be created. I want to vacation. I want to remodel parts of the house. I want new boots. Those last three things, though? I know those are things I can do without. I haven’t been on vacation since 2004. I can neither afford to remodel the house or buy boots. These are not things that break me down. What breaks me down is the realization that I am 41 years old, feel as though my accomplishments are puny in relation to what I haven’t done, what I WANT to do, and my bedroom floor is filthy.
You know this post has no real point, right? I’m just trying to talk myself through like I do every year, over and over again. When does the cycle change? Can I change it? Can you tell me how to change it? Is there a book? Where is my life manual? This is about more than just mere wanting, because if want was enough, I’d be living in satisfaction. But I’m not. I’m living in, am weighed down by, and trying to get from under, frustration and displeasure. I don’t hate my life, by far. My kids are turning out pretty damn good. I still get the stomach flutters looking at my husband (sometimes. And sometimes I want to stab him with the knives that he keeps putting in the drain pointing up, but that’s a discussion for another time). We aren’t financially rich, but we are family and happiness rich. But.
When do I find professional richness? When do I find that missing piece of my story, where I become happy because I have finally done what I am meant to do? When?