When I was young, I believed there was some kind of virtue in aging. You know, some great epiphany that occurred around that magical fortieth year....something that helped to balance out the rather rude side of growing older. "Okay so....you have to lift up your boobs to zip your jeans, but hey - you are one smart cookie." You know what I mean? Well, I am here to tell you, that's all just plain BS. Aging means remaining as stupid as ever, plus the added benefit of fossilized crow's feet, bunions, grey hair in places where there shouldn't even be hair.
In my case, I have never, ever been so confused with what I am, who I am, where I am going....or why.The big joke used to be that young people needed to "find" themselves. I don't recall ever losing me...not even in my darkest days. When I was young, I knew what I was here to do. Now ---- at the age of 49, I have no idea. I wake up each day and struggle through a job that has no meaning to me, other than paying my rent at the beginning of each month. I work with and for people that don't know me, and don't care to. I struggle back up to my apartment at the end of each day, only to sit and watch life go by the outside of my apartment. I watch people come and go to the gym, the various shops below, and wonder what the hell is so important to them. Where did those feelings go? I used to feel that way.
In the past eighteen months, I have had major health issues, and still struggle with the strength to walk around during my day, due to a spinal cord problem. Now I have the added benefit of some sort of heart issue. I have lost my long-term job that I loved, and in doing so, have lost many people that I care deeply about. I have moved from a small town to a city, and have struggled to pay both the rent and the mortgage on two places. Now, my old house is selling, and wouldn't you think that would make me happy? No, I cry because I miss that old life, the one with the happy family, living in small-town USA..the one where I had three kids that were happy and mostly well adjusted, two dogs that meant the world to me, constant activity and perpetual motion. When things got overwhelming, I had a mother I could call on. I have gone from having enough money to bankruptcy. I have been happily married and now I am separated. I have zero idea where or how that will end up. I have grown kids with such overwhelming problems that I can't get through one day, not even one day...without a crisis. I have had my heart broken so many times that patching it any further will surely cause it's demise. I am letting people down everywhere I turn. This is me? Impossible. Not Jamie, not miss-self-assured, miss-decisive, miss-get-off-your-ass-and-get-it-done. I fall into bed each night exhausted, only to wake in a couple of hours and deal with those night issues, the worries that creep in, the fear of what is next...sheer terror at the next dawning day. And yet, I get up, get dressed and plug along. WHAT FOR? How am I doing anything that matters for anyone at all?
Stella ---- how do I get MY groove back?