I haven't written in a long time because I go through periods where I just don't feel like I have anything worthy to say. I consider deleting my blog altogether. I doubt myself and my thoughts. I think I sometimes get so tired of everything, I just withdraw.
My household has been sick for the last 2 months. Maybe 3. 3 months with at least one out of six people sick. I'm tired. The problem is: it's always something. Life never slows down. If everyone is healthy, the car breaks down. If the cars are running well, the plumbing is leaking. I realized that the way I was living assumed that things would get better. They aren't. I'm not being pessimistic here. I'm realizing that I need to be more proactive.
I think I have a problem with comparing my life to others'. The caveat in this is that we hardly ever see a person's "real" life, so how can we really compare? It seems to me that everyone else has better health, more energy, better social skills, and more sanity. Meanwhile, my feelings of facepalm about other people's choices coexist with feelings of insecurity about my own choices. In my yearning to not be "wrong" I can feel both ends of the spectrum at the same time, and it tears me apart sometimes. I wish I cared less and therefore hurt less. And I wish I loved more and therefore hurt less.
This unpolished stream of consciousness is all I have to offer. The perfectionist slice of my internal pie chart would delete this because it kills me to be misunderstood. But there's another piece of pie that just has to get some of this out.
