There are days when I feel like I could take on a Roman Army to defend my beliefs... and then, there are days when it just doesn't seem worth the effort to say one single word. Lately, the latter days are multiplying like bunnies in springtime.
Too many battles lost and a sense that my game plan is as weak as my tired legs and back. What good have they done me, anyhow? Those damn legs keep walking down the wrong path and the connection between brain and body seems to have been all but severed, hanging on by a string that is only there for show and doesn't have any really connection to anything.
Did I once have dreams? Or, have I been wandering aimlessly through my own life, falling into holes and climbing out of them without really knowing how or why I fell in the first place. I'm feeling sullen. And, odd. Like I don't fit into my own body... and certainly not into my life.
Reflection...in the mirror, in the water, in my head. Who am I? I've come to the conclusion that the answer to that question changes with the tides and who stands with me. I am this for you and that for them. But, for me... who the hell am I? This, my 40th year on earth, and I still have no idea what I am doing, where I am going, or who the hell I really am.
How, as a mother and pseudo -wife , separate myself from those roles ad figure out who I am without upsetting the delicate balance that has kept me teetering (but, not falling too often) all these years? I want to be the mom who left her 5 boys and went to Paris for 3 years, in the middle of their upbringing, to study art and find herself. I want to be that actress, who didn't start her career until she was 40, because it was the first time she tried, and she was a great success immediately. I want to write the book, the best seller that lets me tell the truth and have people understand where I am coming from and want to go there with me. I want to be me, the me that doesn't hide for fear of disapproval... if only I can figure out just who "me" is.