Mired in mental muck

Seriously considering happy pills.


The older I get, the more I start really examining things in my life.

Like the fact that, at my age, I still don't know exactly who I am. That's pathetic, isn't it? Yeah. It is. Most people I know are confident and sure of themselves and the path they're on. Not me. I second-guess myself a lot. I'm always trying to fit some mold I create for myself instead of just being ME.


Like the fact that this is it. One shot. I could die tomorrow, or something horrific could happen and life could be forever altered. And what about the life I lived? Was it full? Was it what I wanted it to be? Why don't I do more of the small things I want to do? Even something so simple as going to a coffee shop or book shop and relaxing? Or taking a walk even when the rest of my family doesn't want to? Or going to dinner or for drinks with a friend like we've been trying to do for ages?

Like the fact that, while my children are getting older, as children are wont to do, I still have a hard time realizing just how old they are now. And when I sit and think about it, it scares me. My children are my life (every 'expert' tells you that's a bad thing, but it's true), and they are slowing slipping away, toward adolescence and ever-increasing independence. I try to enjoy my time with them as much as I can, but sometimes I feel like life's stresses get in the way. I hate that, but I am consciously trying to change it all the time.

Like why can't I be one of those happy, carefree, positive people? You can't just flip a switch. Believe me, I've tried to talk myself into it. It's much more difficult than it sounds.