"The only thing worse than your insecurities getting the best of you is when they bring backup in the form of evidence."
As usual, this one's my own fault.
Mom called last night, mainly to bug me about how I never call or write. I gave her the same answer I always give her when she brings this up: I've got nothing to talk about. I am rarely one to talk for the sake of talking; if I communicate something, I'm expecting to either give or receive information, and that's usually it.
So after a few idle minutes, she asks me about work.
And for some reason, I admitted that I've recently felt like I'm in a rut.
Well, that opens the floodgates of life-examining questions. And I know she's trying to help, and that she doesn't want me to feel any worse, but when our conversation finally ended, I was in an even deeper funk than before. Turns out it's an all-encompassing rut: financial, social, personal.
It was all the questions I didn't have any answers to.
Do you still want to do editing? I don't know. Do you still want to be at the newspaper? I don't know. Do you want to do something completely different? I don't know how to do anything else.
It's partly a problem of confidence, and it always has been for me. But there's more to it than that. It's some stubborn and shortsighted choices I made -- and some that I didn't make -- that I feel like I'm paying for now.
It's the possibly outdated notion that at 30 years old, I should have this somewhat figured out, yet I might as well be five for how clueless it seems I am. Maybe part of it's a lack of self-awareness, like I'm not quite sure who I am or what I actually want to be.
It's why I never have anything to say to my mom when she calls, because nothing. Ever. Happens. For whatever reason, I've never been a "do-er." Me alone in a room full of strangers is like a tire shop at a marina -- woefully out of place and completely useless. The life in my head is infinitely more interesting than the life my body's in.
And that needs to change. I know that.
But that's about where my knowledge stops.
NP: Garbage, "Only Happy When It Rains"
Not even.
2 comments:
You got to let go of the past, and once you do that, the future is beautiful.
You're 30?
(I'm kidding. I think I did this joke already, too, which shows how much I suck).
No, you've never been Mr. Extroverted, but trust me, talking and associating with real life people is supremely overrated. Just spend a few months in DSL support. :-D
If you want my .015 Canadian, you need a vacation.
Post a Comment