The above is from “Shake It Out” by Florence and the Machine, although it’s an idiom that has been around for a very long time, well before Florence.
My anxiety has been slowly getting better, but it’s an up and down process. Most mornings I no longer wake up with a sense of dread, but these days it seems that my anxiety has been replaced with sadness or, some days, numbness.
All I want, at this point in my life, is a baby. I have baby fever, constantly, because I am terrified that I will never have one. All of my romantic pursuits thus far have either fizzled or imploded in spectacular fashion and it rather dampens one’s spirit. Yes, there is still the guy that I currently have romantic feelings for, but his behaviour thus far suggests that he doesn’t have any romantic interest in me. I don’t know, since I haven’t asked him, but I’m frankly tired of having my heart broken, so the idea of pouring my heart out to yet another person who doesn’t love me back is almost as unappealing as plucking out all of my eyelashes, one by one.
I deleted my Facebook a few weeks ago. I tell most people that it’s because it’s a time-waster (which it is) but mostly it’s because I cannot stand that all of my friends are getting engaged or married or having babies. Three are pregnant as we speak, one just had a baby girl last week, six had babies last year, three got married last year, five are going to be married in 2017 and two will be married in 2018 (so far!).
I feel like I’m not a real adult. I spent most of my twenties either travelling or doing temp jobs, meaning that my resume is full of gaps. I don’t own a car, I don’t own property, I’m not in a relationship (nor have I ever been in one), I live with my parents, and the pitiful sum of money in my bank account is set aside for tuition for next year. I’m hoping to get scholarships for this next year, but if I don’t, then I will graduate with approximately $0 to my name at 29 years old.
I look at the people that I grew up with and it seems like everyone else has their lives at least somewhat together. Most are in careers by this point, not jobs. Most are married, or at least dating. Many have children. Most own their own property. All of them have lived away from home at least once, for a decent amount of time. I don’t have any of those things, not to mention that I am a) overweight and in a perpetual cycle of self-loathing because of it and b) am a disorganized mess, but every time I look at all of the stuff I have to do, I get anxious and overwhelmed.
I feel like I’ve failed. That I have slipped up somewhere along the way, and that my punishment is that I won’t be able to live a normal life, to get married, and to have kids. I thought, when I was younger, that I wanted to be a nomad and live in exotic places, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that really, all I want is the house in the suburbs (or the country, even better) with a picket fence and a big yard and four children and dogs and cats and maybe some chickens. I don’t want to be a housewife, per se, as I do very much love the career that I am pursuing, but if I had to pick between my career or children, I would pick the kids every single time.
I am afraid of the future, that I won’t get what I so desperately want. I think that’s the root of my anxiety, to be truthful, or at least it plays a huge factor: I am terrified of being alone. The thought of living on my own is appealing, but it also brings about crippling anxiety. The idea of never getting married and never having children is one that makes me cry almost every time it crosses my mind and these days, it seems like I can’t escape it.
I’m seeing my therapist on Thursday, so I’m hoping he can help me work through this, but right now the world feels really dark and lonely. Here’s to waiting for the dawn.