Who, What, Where, When and Why?

 Lately I have been having a bit of an existential crisis.

Why am I here? Specifically at this junction of my life. My youngest will be turning 18 in the fall. So theoretically I am soon to be an empty nester. Realistically I will not be there any time soon. If ever. Although we are in the home stretch with High School. And from there a little more flexibility.

Why have I not figured out what I am going to be when I grow up?

Which brings me to what. What am I going to do?

Who am I? Besides a daughter, wife, mother, friend.

Where am I going? Lately with all that has been coming up from my past, maybe I need to figure out where I have been.

When will I ever get my shit together?

And how?






I have said numerous times before that I can't tell (write) my story until my parents are dead because telling my story would involve them, and not always in a favorable light. And when I had said that it was before my dad had come back into my life after a long hiatus. Before I knew some of the details that I know now. Before the anger had resurfaced. And the renewed hurt.

Then this morning as I was riding my bike. trying to think about how I can figure out what exactly it is that I want to do with my life, I thought of something. And that something is that telling my story and writing my story does not necessarily mean that I have to put it out there right away. If ever.

So maybe it's time to start telling. And it may not lead to any sort of epiphany as to fantastical career choices. But it will possibly lead me to a better understanding of who I am. Why it is I do what I do. 

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