I don't know what my purpose is in life. I don't. That doesn't mean that I want to die. It doesn't mean that I'm a risk to myself. It simply means that I wish I understood what it is I'm supposed to be doing with my life. I'm married. So I feel selfish when I think this cryptically. But I can't help it. Because though I am a wife, my husband has his shit figured out. He's a nurse. Specifically a charge nurse. At 23 years old. And still he manages to be a wonderful husband. I'm a CNA. It's not a bad thing. But it's certainly not what I want to be doing for the rest of my life.
Motherhood has been on my mind frequently. Sariah (my dear friend) had her sweet Dahlia about 2 weeks ago, and my friend Kylee just found out that she is expecting. It's great for them. It seriously is. Sometimes, I just wish it was me. Not because of the hype or attention, but because I wonder if I would feel better about the direction of my life if I knew that I would be responsible for a little person in 9 short months. Dave and I aren't ready for that stage in our lives, and frankly my body isn't either.
My faith has been weak recently, and it makes me sad. I love God. And I believe. I believe with all that I am that everything in life happens for a reason. Sometimes it's just hard to see that reasoning when your circumstances in life don't make any sense. Nothing bad has happened to me. This is the most stable my life has ever been. But I have this translucent sadness that won't leave me alone. It pesters me, and sucks my energy. Eventually it wins. And I am tired, and don't want to get out of bad. I'm not hungry, but I eat anyway. I know God has placed certain people in my life to help me deal with this, but I wish I could figure out why I can't suck my own shit up, and just be fucking happy. It really shouldn't be that hard. Happiness. I'm married to great guy. I have a beautiful home. I have a good job. I have an amazing family.
But I'm so unhappy. I feel inadequate.
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