Keep your eyes on the stars and your feet on the ground.
-Theodore Roosevelt

Friday, June 28, 2013

I have been having a hard time lately in life. I have this feeling of being...what’s a good word? Stuck?
We’ll go with stuck. It’s like I fell into a vat of quicksand. We always were warned about quicksand when we were kids. It was a big deal. How many cartoon characters and people like Indiana Jones got perpetually stuck in quicksand? Tons! Those shows made it seem like we would but running along and fall into quicksand at any moment in time. That doesn't happen, at least to me anyway. I’m sorry for whomever it does happen to. That must suck.
Metaphorically tho? I fell into some nasty ass quicksand. I can’t move or wiggle and sometimes it feels as if I can’t breathe for fear of falling even deeper in this exasperatingly difficult trap.

I should take a moment here. I can’t complain. I have it good. I really do. I live with this adorably dorky and handsome young man who I also have the pleasure of calling my own. I have two beautiful dogs that might be semi-retarded sometimes but make up for it in the absolute adoration they have in their eyes every time they look at me. I have a wonderful family that loves and supports me in everything and anything I do. I have a steady 40 hour a week job that pays decently well and I work with some awesome people. I am in good health with no major physical flaws. I have friends and other fun activities to look forward to and keep me entertained. I shouldn't complain but I do. I can’t shake this feeling of stuckiness. (I know that’s not a word but in this instance I’m using it)

I feel weighted down. I feel like I am a little too grown up for a 21 year old. I feel...stuck.

All of the above listed things are reasons I feel stuck.

I love my boyfriend. I really honest to God do. I adore him. He makes me laugh and feel a range of emotions that I didn't think was possible. He supports me and is fair in everything he does. He loves me for me and I love that. But I’m stuck. I’m stuck with being a 21 year old on the straight and narrow path to get married and pop out babies. That scares the shit out of me.

I love my dogs. I really would cry for seems like ever if anything were to ever happen to them. But my dogs are my leash. They’re my leash to my house. I can’t just stay out all day and night and not step foot into my house for a couple days just because I don’t want to go home. I have to take care of them. They are my responsibility. I’m stuck with them.

I love my family. They've been by my side for my entire life. I've always respected their opinions of me and would hate to fault in their eyes. They live here. I don’t want to but I’m stuck because I can’t bear to leave them.

I have a job. I can’t say that I love it. It puts food on the table and money in my pocket. It’s not overly hard but it gets to me at times. At this moment in time I am the moneymaker in my home. I can’t quit or find another job because right now this is what works for me. I’m stuck.

I’m in good health. Some people would kill to be 21 and healthy again. But I’m stuck in this body. I have image issues. I see everything wrong and nothing right with my body. I see a mane for hair, zits galore, yellow teeth, double chin, flat tits, poochy belly, thunder thighs, cottage cheese ass, tree trunk legs and weird feet. I see me how I see me. I’m stuck with this body that I can’t change some things about.

I have friends and other things to do keep me entertained. That’s a blessing. It is. butttttt I always feel like we do the same thing. We hang out at the bar. We hang out at our house. I know I shouldn't complain about this at all. It’s stuff for my pleasure that other people don’t have the privilege or time to do. I don’t meet new people or do new things. I don’t try new restaurants and I don’t  order food I've never had. I’m stuck in this rut.

Today I learned that I should really give up on microwavable Chinese food.

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