Am I Where I Should Be?

        I envy people who are happy with who they are and where they’re at in life. That must be a freeing feeling to be who you truly are and be confident and completely trusting in where you’re headed in life. I wish I had that. I wish that I could be who I am. I’m not speaking in a sense that I’m afraid to live my life a certain way. I mean that I’m not sure who I am and who I’m meant to be. I’d like to imagine that in the past I had an idea of who I was and what I wanted, but that all changed. Life took a turn and I stumbled along the way. Now I’m unsure of everything. I’m unsure of what makes me happy. Unsure of what I long to do with my life. Unsure of who I should let into my life. I just don’t know. Once upon a time I wanted to be a teacher, writer, director, photographer, and journalist. I wanted to create things that the world could related to. That need to create something that the world will relate to is still there, but my ambition to create is lost. I feel as though all I want to say has been said and if it hasn’t already been said I’m lost on how to put it into words.
        I’m so unhappy with life right now. It’s not just a sadness that’s knowingly felt and bubbles to the surface from time to time. It’s a sadness that sits at my core and just sits there like a sick felling, where you can’t remember what you ate, but all you know is that it’s made you nauseous. I can’t 100% explain it. I want to know what it feels like to say “Great! I found my calling!” Instead I’m lingering on something that at one point I felt was my calling and now it’s just a dwindling hobby. Don’t get me wrong, I do think that my writing is pretty good, but there’s no love behind it anymore. There’s no dying need for it. I miss the feeling of NEEDING to write. At one point in my life it brought me joy to write until my hand would cramp because that said to me that I was accomplishing something. It said to me that my mind was running a mile a minute and my hand was hurrying to catch up with every thought I could think. All I ever wanted to do, since I can remember, was write. That is all I ever wanted. This is something I wanted so much for my life and now I just can’t be bothered with it. I have to MAKE myself write. Never in my life have I ever had to make myself do that. Any free moment I had there was a pen in my hand. Always. Now that need, that want, is completely gone.
        I’ve run out of accomplishments and I’ve run out of knowledge on what I want. No matter my career, my love life, my family life, I just don’t know what I want. I just know that I want to feel free. I don’t know what that entails, but I’d like to think I’d know it when I feel it. So far I don’t feel free. I think a sense of creative freedom and freedom from my mind would bring me happiness. To me freedom equals happiness. I don’t remember the last time I felt free, but I do know that even then I didn’t feel completely free. It was just a glimpse of what could be. That glimpse was everything. It gave me hope. I liked that feeling. Although at the time I was going through other struggles, that little ray of hope made everything okay. Then my world just sort of collapsed. Everything changed and my drive vanished.
        Next month I’ll only be 33 and I just feel so stuck that I’ve somewhat lost hope. Too old for adventures. Slowly becoming to old to possibly be someone’s mom. Too old to feel like I have to coerce people into friendships. Too old to make new friendships. Too old to return to school to continue and education that I’m not even sure I want anymore. Too old to play the field when I should be settling down. I just feel too far gone. I’m so so gone.
       So to anyone who is in the career they truly want, have the relationships that they want and make them better (whether it be with a partner, family, friends, etc) I really do envy that and it’s scary because I’m not absolutely sure if I ever will. At least not to the extent where I will be truly happy and satisfied.

-Asia Aneka Anderson

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