… lie in bed at night wondering just exactly how you got, well… there?
Not how you found your way to bed, or the exact details of moving into your home, or the process that led you to your city.
No, no.
You wonder about all the events and choices and reactions and fears that have put you smack dab into the middle of your own life.
(Then again, you might not wonder at all. Maybe you’re one of those people that falls asleep the second your head hits the pillow. You aren’t a “worrier.” You just “live in the moment.”
Both of which, by the way, are phrases that drive us neurotic types nuts.)
Sometimes I wonder where my confidence goes when I want something for my future, but don’t have the courage to pursue it.
Sometimes I wonder where this body came from, when I started out as a skinny little kid who loved to run.
Sometimes I wonder how I ended up single at 33, when I have always wanted a marriage and a family.
Sometimes I wonder what gifts and talents I am supposed to be using to drag me out of this restless, frustrated state.
And sometimes I get sick of wondering.
I want to believe that there is so much more to me than this.
That I am capable of anything.
That there is no such thing as too far gone.
That these scars will fade.
That someone will love me in spite of all my quirks and mistakes and flaws and stretch marks and veins and ecchhh…
That a day will come when I’m not lying here wondering how a million different bends in the road took me to the fork I’m at now.
It’s exhausting to look at the magnitude of the moves I need to make. It’s exhausting to know that anything I undertake is going to take so much work and effort that at times… well, it just won’t seem worth it.
And it’s especially exhausting to take in all the advice and counsel and admonitions people give me about where and how to get started, and what’s wrong with me, and what I need to try, and what I should have done differently all along.
But for all the exhaustion? Still wide awake and worrying.
I guess it’s the only thing that will eventually make me crazy enough to change, instead of just crazy enough to sit here and let my failures consume me.
reading this i felt like it was me talking. just substitute your age for mine and its almost scary. i love your blogs and your honestly. thanks!
Thank you for sharing this Meg. I know exactly how you feel. I’m often paralyzed with fear, which makes me procrastinate, hence stagnate. It frustrates the hell out of me. I guess knowing is the first step.
Here’s a little phrase that might drive you nuts but sometimes I just need a simple statement to get off my ass. Be a warrior not a worrier! I’m learning to just DO rather than THINK because sometimes, the thought of doing something is way worse than actually doing it. That is not advice by the way… it’s just me talking out of my ass :)
All that to say… thanks.
all the damn time.
thanks for letting me know I’m not alone.
So often. So sharply.
I’m linking to this on my blog.
Thank you, Meg.
You are one of the most brilliant, funny, moving, loving, generous, kind, thoughtful, and strong women that I know. I am so blessed to know you. And whatever choices or bends in the road that brought you to where you are, I selfishly thank most of them, because it enabled us to be the best of friends. Like Anne and Diana. And I wouldn’t trade that friendship for anything. I ache for your aches, and know that you will find what you are looking for. Much love.
Wow…just last night I asked Kevin to PLEASE teach me how to shut off my brain. Sometimes I go so crazy because he lays down and falls asleep within minutes, while I lie there thinking and wondering and worrying. I wish I had a little switch that I could flip when it’s time to go to sleep.
Beautifully written, Meg. I don’t know what else to say, so I’ll just say that :)
I do that too, it’s natural. I am a big believer in everything happening for a reason and that time will reveal all.
Beautiful post!
That someone will love me in spite of all my quirks and mistakes and flaws and stretch marks and veins and ecchhh…
Someone already does, Meg; you just haven’t crossed paths yet. And one day, while you’re testing the melons in the grocery store, a klutz will bump into you, you’ll turn, slightly annoyed and ready to say something, and you’ll be disarmed by a smile…
:-)
You are one of the most brilliant and talented writers I have come across. Your honesty is inspiring, your heart is huge and you are trully beautiful inside and out. :-)
PS, I am 33 and don’t have a drivers license either. ;-)