I'm unhappy.
I'm sure you hadn't noticed. lol.
But it is starting to really worry me, which is, of course, not a quick way to get happier.
I'm deeply unhappy. Unsettled. unfulfilled.
And I feel this malaise. This awful laziness about my own existence. This sort of 'oh well' attitude that is really completely not the Beth Reardon we all know and love (or hate). Who is this person? This utterly 'meh' persona?
I used to want things, plan for things, dream ab out things, imahgine things. Now? Meh.
I used to feel passionately, feel strongly, feel deeply, feel honestly, FEEL. Now? Meh.
I used to have opinions, now I couldn't be bothered. I used to get all fired up, now it's too much effort. I used to crave and hunger and salivate and yearn and bleed for things. Now.
You get the picture.
As the teenagers say these days: I'm over it.
That's how I feel. I'm over it. And the bad news is that I'm only 26, only at the beginning of whatever career I settle into, and I have like, 30-40 more years of working hard, working all the time, working for paychecks that go right to the creditors and bill collectors, working myself into nothingness at a job I'll most likely loathe, and when I'm old and bitter and have nothing to show for it? I shudder to think. I'm repulsed. I revile tht person I see in the mirror 25-40 years down the line. Honestly.
Aaron keeps advocating I live in the now. That I enjoy the present and stop worrying about the future. But when the future looks so grim and bleak, how am I even supposed to enjoy the now? I swear, it's like living under a leaden storm cloud.
So I should probably see someone about this, right? Yeah, I figured you'd say that. I have a doctor's appointment later in the month. We'll see what they say.
A friend just revamped her blog, and has decided to focus on her many swirling passions. I applaud this and commend it. And I envy her her many passions. I can't feel so much as a spark lately. I'm shutting down, slowly but surely.
One thing I'm doing is packing away the theatre part of me. I'm done with it now, and have to put it away, tuck it up in the attic in a chest somewhere. And I'm folding up and packing away the writer too. And I'm gunna go ahead and yardsale the rest. The mother, the award winner, the difference-maker. The entrepreneuer, the homemaker, the cinephile, the political enthusiast. The wife, probably. Because I'm not sure how long anyone can be expected to live with the glum side of an alavert commercial.
And if the stuff doesn't sell at yard sale? I'mma just burn it in a big ole bonfire, cuz I wouldn'te even give this stuff to charity, lol.
I'm sure you hadn't noticed. lol.
But it is starting to really worry me, which is, of course, not a quick way to get happier.
I'm deeply unhappy. Unsettled. unfulfilled.
And I feel this malaise. This awful laziness about my own existence. This sort of 'oh well' attitude that is really completely not the Beth Reardon we all know and love (or hate). Who is this person? This utterly 'meh' persona?
I used to want things, plan for things, dream ab out things, imahgine things. Now? Meh.
I used to feel passionately, feel strongly, feel deeply, feel honestly, FEEL. Now? Meh.
I used to have opinions, now I couldn't be bothered. I used to get all fired up, now it's too much effort. I used to crave and hunger and salivate and yearn and bleed for things. Now.
You get the picture.
As the teenagers say these days: I'm over it.
That's how I feel. I'm over it. And the bad news is that I'm only 26, only at the beginning of whatever career I settle into, and I have like, 30-40 more years of working hard, working all the time, working for paychecks that go right to the creditors and bill collectors, working myself into nothingness at a job I'll most likely loathe, and when I'm old and bitter and have nothing to show for it? I shudder to think. I'm repulsed. I revile tht person I see in the mirror 25-40 years down the line. Honestly.
Aaron keeps advocating I live in the now. That I enjoy the present and stop worrying about the future. But when the future looks so grim and bleak, how am I even supposed to enjoy the now? I swear, it's like living under a leaden storm cloud.
So I should probably see someone about this, right? Yeah, I figured you'd say that. I have a doctor's appointment later in the month. We'll see what they say.
A friend just revamped her blog, and has decided to focus on her many swirling passions. I applaud this and commend it. And I envy her her many passions. I can't feel so much as a spark lately. I'm shutting down, slowly but surely.
One thing I'm doing is packing away the theatre part of me. I'm done with it now, and have to put it away, tuck it up in the attic in a chest somewhere. And I'm folding up and packing away the writer too. And I'm gunna go ahead and yardsale the rest. The mother, the award winner, the difference-maker. The entrepreneuer, the homemaker, the cinephile, the political enthusiast. The wife, probably. Because I'm not sure how long anyone can be expected to live with the glum side of an alavert commercial.
And if the stuff doesn't sell at yard sale? I'mma just burn it in a big ole bonfire, cuz I wouldn'te even give this stuff to charity, lol.
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2 comments:
You have to sleep before you can wake up again. Let yourself rest. I think it's a great idea to go talk to someone though. Can only help.
Crazy asked our neighbors who are moving if she could look through their stuff today and keep some of it. They told her no because it was theirs.
Papi said if we were moving and he'd rather bonfire our stuff we didn't want in the middle of the driveway then let her look through it.
Maybe you shouldn't yard sale your stuff. Just pack it away or something.
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