Often, I wonder where things went wrong. What if I had made a different decision? What if I chose not to meet that one person? What if, what if, what if... Would I be half the person I am now? Would I be worse off? Would I be better off? Would I be drowning in the stress I am drowning in now?
The thing is, who knows? There are so many things and so many paths to have been taken, who knows if I would have ended up better or worse off. Some say that our stories are already written. That there is destiny and fate that push us in certain directions. I'm not sure I can believe that anymore. We are the writers of our own story. Which begs the question, why do we do what we do?
We all have these ideas of what we want out of lives. We want to be famous, an actor, the president, an astronaut. Nice dreams for children. But, some people follow their childhood dreams and make it happen for them. Others don't know what we want out of life, or we don't know how to get where we want to be. I find myself to be the latter. I never truly knew what I wanted for my life. But I know one thing, this wasn't exactly what I had imagined.
I am 37. I have no job. I can barely pay bills. I have a beautiful 15 year old daughter. I am a cat lady, call me a crazy one, it's ok. My mother recently moved in with us in my small trailer with her dog. With everything going on at home, I'm not even sure I can focus on a job anyway.
Since I was young, I loved to write. Can I make a career of it? Is that even humanly possible at this point? I didn't finish college, and if I had, it would have been some sort of art degree. Perhaps I need to transcribe some old poems or stories? Maybe that will help me find myself again? Find myself, yes, that's what is needed. I am lost and need to be found again.
Here I go...
