Happy Birthday to me. I am 37 today.
I wish I was in a better place for this entry right now. For the last two weeks, I've been thinking about impermanence. How things in life always change, regardless of whether those changes are good or bad. Constant flux and movement. The tide comes in so it can go out. It scares me. I want stability and solidity. I want it all the more now that it seems to have abandoned me in the moment where I apparently needed it most.
There are moments in my life that I shared with people that are now no longer here, and that scares the shit out of me. I am the sole narrator of those moments now; there is no on here to cross check me on the facts of these stories. Whatever bias I have about the particulars of those moments is no longer relevant, since I'm the only one with the story.
Like in Chrononauts, where the most legitimate Mona Lisa in play becomes "the" Mona Lisa. I don't want to be the Mona Lisa. But I'm the only one in play.
I should not be the sole narrator of anything. I am unreliable. I'm an asshole. I'll fuck it up. There needs to be an editor, an additional source, someone to confirm or deny. There needs to be accountability. Instead, I get to be the arbiter of what actually happened for significant parts of 1997. I get to decide what the real meaning is of so many nights in early 2012. And this is monumentally fucked up.
If this is a symptom of of approaching middle age, please tell me so that this doesn't feel like some weird bullshit thing my brain is shoving onto me.
Because when I think about the last year, it is kind of a story of simplicity and stability. The winter and early spring were a really good time for me. I dug back into myself in a way that I had been letting slide. I took a look at what I was doing with my life and my time, and made some difficult but necessary decisions. I took that time and energy and put it into people that I wanted to be with. I'm happier and heather for doing that. I've solidified myself at work, my calendar is full and fulfilling, and life churns along.
So why does everything feel all weird? Why is there anxiety and fear? I need to get to the bottom of this, because it's drowning out the good stuff right now. I need the good stuff. I want to get back to the positivity and good feeling that I had in the winter, when it looked like everything was pointed in the right direction. I want to feel as secure as I can without letting my brain fuck it all up.
I just want the direction. Point me in a direction.