I’ve been pretty happy lately. Sex will do that for me! And as a person who has always struggled with depression and lived with an undercurrent of sadness that never really ceases flowing, being happy can be weird for me. And scary.
And as happy as I am, there are some things that are making me unhappy. It doesn’t cancel out any of the happiness, but its weird to be happy and sad at the same time.
But as I’ve made clear, I am a complicated cunt.
Dating is going way better than it has in years. Years! So that’s great. Yet I’m still fucking dating at 45 years old. Work is going ok, better than it was last year. Yet I’m still really far from having enough clients and feeling like I’m thriving in the career I’ve been at for 23 years.
I wish I was successful in at least one part of my life. I guess that getting out of bed, carrying on in the face of my whole life falling to pieces around me, getting half-way back on my feet should make me happy. But, remember, I am not the best at happy. I have emotional weather systems that are powerful and rapidly fluctuating. I’m learning to handle them before the disaster level is reached. Maybe I’m improving. I wish I knew.
I am happy about some things in my life. But I’m also super disappointed in myself for still trying to figure out the shit that most people my age have mastered. Or at least managed. When anything seems to be going well I’m sure I’ll fuck it up somehow. Hiding, hermiting was lonely and sad but safe. opening up to people, to life, it is terrifying.
I thought that I’d be somewhere in life by now. I guess I am. If treading water in a city I’m not sure I love is somewhere, here I am. I guess I thought I’d have love. A thriving career. A circle of friends where I actually live. I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I should have made a fucking 5 year plan!
I’m happy-ish. I’m hopeful-ish. I have some lovely men who like my company and that is really fucking sweet. I have potential, possibly maybe love. Not actual love. But maybe. Which is lovely. And uncertain.
And I really should just forget you-know-who. Yeah. Good fucking luck. Maybe if that eternal sunshine of the spotless mind shit comes along. But barring that, unlikely.
I am super sleep deprived today. My period is about to start, my uterus feels like a pressure cooker and my emotions are flooding the levees. Sappy songs were making me cry on the bus. I tell myself “you’re tired. your periods coming” and this helps. A little.
But fuck, what am I doing with my life? Where is it going? Will I ever not be a half held together mess? I guess I don’t need to figure it out today. That’s good, because I do not have a clue.