It’s so sad to get to 50 and realize there was never any meaning to my life. Never any real purpose. I’ve only been a seeker and I’ve never really had the space to know who I was or am.
I’ve struggled all my life. Taking classes-going to school. Working menial and low paying jobs. Feeling the desire to do this and then that, never dedicating to one thing. Getting bored or feeling like I could never pull it off. Quitting before I reached the end. Turning down opportunities in fields I did manage to see classes through to the end for.
It hurts to realize I never made anything of myself. It also makes me angry. Angry at my parents. But mostly angry at me for not finding a way to over-ride that. It’s not for lack of some trying. I was hospitalized (voluntarily) twice when I was in my 20s. It helped but when you go back to the same toxic environment, a month just isn’t enough time to fix things. Especially if your family isn’t willing to see what’s really happening.
I know I felt deep down I’d never realize myself completely until I healed. But I also thought that my healing depended on my family understanding too. I wasted so much time looking for approval, not just from them but from men. If someone loved me then I must be OK. But then it was conflicted with the feeling of not feeling good enough within, so something must be wrong with them to want to be with me.
I pushed one particular man away many times by telling him “I need to find myself.”
It was true, but how many times can you say such a thing and never pursue the work? Sad, I never knew what the work was, I just knew it needed to be done.
Edit 9/28/17: Oh boy, so much more to this than just telling him I needed to find myself. There were times I’d said that but wanted to see someone else. But I was right in what I said. Just wasn’t being completely honest. With either one of us. It makes my head spin to think of the mess I was when it came to relationships.
The lack of guidance and nurturing as I grew, took a huge toll on my self worth and self confidence. It left me lost as to where to start to live as an adult once I became of that age. And I was pretty much left to figure it out for myself without having learned how to live in the world and do more than just get by. The result was that I lived at home with my parents for much longer than what I consider to be healthy.
Dreams lost and even forgotten. But also left with many ideas and interests but too overwhelmed to know what to focus on. It led to life paralysis. It led to looking for someone to rescue me.
Now all these years later, after having been in survival mode as a child and a young adult, I’ve reached what is considered middle age and in a vulnerable situation, so once again and still I find myself in survival mode.
I feel like what I’ve started I may not have time for and I’m scared. There is nothing I can do but implement what I know now, because there is much time that could have been utilized for growing that is simply gone and there is nothing I can do about that.
But I am still quite anxious and it leaves me feeling like I should seek out that pay check first, even though I feel pretty incapable of that now, before settling down to work myself out.
I know it’s not the most healing way to do it but it is probably the safest. I hate how this shit has turned out and because I dwell on this, I can’t seem to get any traction.
Praying to the universe to show me the way. But wanting to be careful what I wish for.