I realized today that I’m not in a good place. I don’t mean the house where I live or the city in which the house resides. I mean my insides. My head, heart maybe even my soul. I think this was a good realization because it’s making me think and to ask why?
It also made me try to backtrack – to find the time when I was in a good place. Curious really. It seems that over the last few years I’ve become the person I never wanted to be. Less hopeful, less positive, more grouchy, complaining and confused. I honestly wonder from time to time if I’m losing touch or have less of a grip on my senses, especially when I catch my typo’s.
But it’s made me ponder the bigger question – was it meant to be that way? I find myself lonely a lot. I don’t mean in the romantic way – though there is that – but more so in a general way. Most of my friends and people to whom I feel close don’t live nearby – in fact, most of them are at least three states away. With daily life, mine and theirs it’s hard to stay in close touch – some of the connection you get by being in people’s daily lives and they in yours ultimately gives way to the frustrations of daily life, stress, distractions. And I often chide myself for falling out of touch – forgetting to call when I’ve been meaning to, letting birthdays slip past me, not seeing the daily victories and being able to share in them. To no end, really, because what good does that do?
Back to my question: Was my life meant to be this way? Lonely, somewhat isolated, introspective much of the time? When I was a kid I was a bit of a loner. I liked it that way. Five kids in a three bedroom house is a whole lot of noise and chatter and I liked it when it was quiet and I could think or daydream. Maybe that is where it started – I never was the center of attention in anyone’s world, not even mine. My parents had too many children, financial woes and responsibilities to give us much quality time. Each of my siblings found their own way in the world. Their own way to cope with a family that was strung together more from DNA than any kind of spiritual glue. Not that I ever felt I wasn’t loved, I did, I knew I was. But I also felt as though I was regarded as an odd duck, even when I was very small. Like I spoke perhaps not a different language but definitely a different dialect – apparently, it’s all in the intonation, not the words themselves.
So my fate perhaps was set as a child – I would find my own way. Which I did and continue to do. Yet, I can’t say that makes me happy. It makes me lonely. It makes me long for at least one person who will stay constant in my life. One person who would notice if I wasn’t there and be interested in why not. One person who wouldn’t have to move away by several hundred miles in order to fulfill their life plan. Sounds like a significant other, doesn’t it? I wonder, maybe that’s all that it is. If so, I could be in a bad way because I haven’t met anyone who could really turn my head in a long while. Not sure if there is one out there who could anymore. Or maybe it’s me who isn’t doing the head turning. It could be in fact, that I am unlovable. Maybe it’s too icky to get too close to me? How’s that for paranoia?
I wish with all the magic pills they seem to be inventing lately that someone would invent a pill that could grow more adventure in my soul. That could be it – I need an adventure and Zelda is too busy and besides her adventures usually include injuries. Any suggestions?