I feel like a tired and emotionally drained person today. In itself, that is nothing special but I have been feeling it for a while. I need a vacation but that’s not all. I also need to let go but I don’t know how to.
You’ve read this thing enough times before so I won’t blame you, if you just pass on this post about my perpetual singledom etc. It’s okay. But I need to write this in order to move on. Hopefully move on that is.
As a kid and teenager, growing up I didn’t want a family of my own. My parents were always fighting, my father was an emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive asshole and I vowed to not bring children into this world because I couldn’t imagine that growing up would be a happy thing. My family was screwed up so I expected every family to be like this. Why make tiny people miserable if you could help it.
Things got considerably better when my parents split up (and much, much later finally divorced) and my view on marriage and kids changed ever so glacially in the years since then. The truth is, I want kids and a wife. I want a big happy family; the whole shebang. Which is putting a lot of stress on me because every year I grow older, I’m afraid I’m running more out of time. I wanted at least the love part of my life settled by the time I turn 30. You could argue that I still have time because I won’t turn 30 until 2017. Two years from now. Taking into consideration I haven’t had any firsts to this date though and not seeing this changing anytime soon, I need to let go of the stupid pressure I’m putting on myself. And also of the shame of failing at my imagined love life.
I’ve always had this romantic ideal in my head of casually falling in love, meaning it happening organically. You meet someone through a shared activity and things just fall into place from there on but of course that’s not how this works or will work. It’s a silly thing but knowing that and letting go of the silly ideal is not easy. It sucks. And I hate that I am this needy. That I keep thinking about this. Constantly. I hate that I keep talking/tweeting/blogging/journaling about this but I’m sick and tired of being alone. I’m sick and tired of a lot of things.
There are all these feelings and expectations inside of me that need to be put somewhere. Letting go of them feels like resigning, of giving in to knowing that I will die an old spinster. That I will end up like M from theatre. That I will be like my Mom minus the kid. That I will become my own biggest fear.
In 11th grade I told one of my closest friends that I’m most afraid of becoming like the women in my family, lonely and consumed by work. I wanted to be more. I didn’t want to spend big portions of my life on my own and without friends, consumed by work. All of this is intertwined somewhere in my head; it’s all connected and detangling the mess is a long and difficult process.
It’s funny how you think of yourself as an emotionally okay person until you dig a little deeper and realise there is so much more to everything that’s going on. So much more. Like the literal iceberg underneath the surface and I’m afraid to drown in the melted water. I’m equally as afraid of my lifeboat being hit by the iceberg and then drowning in the sea of life. Boy, you can tell I’m tired and so done with everything because I’m bringing out the weird metaphors and big feels. All of this is usually what the walls keep inside; on good days when my guards are enough in place. On days like today, I just don’t give a fuck. I know I need to find a way of letting go. But what then? What comes next? And also how?
When I’ve been down and low over the past couple of years, I’ve been telling myself that I’m enough, that it’ll be okay but I’m not. I’m hoping for the magic fixer-upper which is idiotic and again doesn’t help me one bit. I’m caught in the crossroads of my own making with no idea on how to get out of here.
Maybe I’m making all of this bigger than it needs to be. Scratch the maybe, I am making this bigger than it needs to be. Sometimes I have these lucid moments shining through in which I realise I’m only 27 and not already 27.
I need to let go. I am my own goddamn person. I can be who and whatever I want to be. I’m going to be okay.
I’m going to be okay.