Two Year Crisis...

It's like a full blown existential crisis up in here.

Seriously.

Honestly, I really thought that the older I got, the more sure of myself I would become, but I feel like the exact opposite is happening. I feel like the older I am, the more UNSURE I am of myself. And that, my friends, is what rock bottom is. Rock bottom is having no clue what to do with oneself because one does not know who one is. (Say that last sentence with a British accent and pretend you are wearing a frock from Pride and Prejudice...because yes, I admit it. I am being rather dramatic about it.)

I really am serious when I say that I don't have a clue about an.y.thing. right now. I don't know who I am or what I am or what I am going to do with my life, and it isn't scary so much as it is bottomless. Endless. Like I really do not have any sort of clue whatsoever as to how I'm going to get a handle on myself. Or when that might even happen. Because I really do not know.

I find myself wondering if this is normal. I thought I would be over these crises of confidence a long time ago. I mean, that is what your twenties are for, right? That's the whole purpose of the invention of the twenties...college, first jobs, first loves and all that. You are supposed to have it down and be ready to roll come thirty. I think I had it figured out better when I was seventeen.

That's right. My teenage self gets it better than my thirty-six-year-old self.

Ugh. It isn't so much depression, although that is part of my life and I've come to accept it, but it isn't that so much. So much is wishing I could figure it all out and just get on with it already. So much of it is waiting to understand. So much of it is just wanting some sort of purpose. A drive. A goal. SOMETHING...ANYTHING!!!

But this is my thought. Long ago in a far away place, when I heard that woman talking about her husband looking for work near on two years (TWO YEARS!!!). I thought to myself, no way...no how. And maybe this little existential crisis of mine will be just that. Because I thought that and so now I need to understand what two years actually means. That's what I hope, anyway. Two years and I'll be able to get on with my life. Please...let it be.