All of a sudden I feel married; I've got this house and this job, and this consistency in my life that makes me nervous and nauseous, and all other negative N words (that aren't racial or sexual). Seriously though, thinking that I'm going to be stuck in the same job and in the same place for the next for years, or any prolonged period of time freaks me out. I want to run away.
To be honest, I'm not sure if it all feels right. I'm not sure if it all feels wrong either, I just feel like I'm here to do something more, and haven't figured out what that something more is.
The next five months are looking pretty grim for me. I'm doing a ton of things that should make me happy; taking a class in dietetics, firefighting school, personal training and teaching aerobics, and leading one entire team in a "largest looser" weight-loss competition. For some reason, happy is sometimes the only emotion I don't feel.
I don't think I'm depressed, just kind of in search for something else;
something bigger and something that can give my life clarity and meaning. The
bottom line is this; if you know me and I don't seem myself but can give you no
explanation as to why, it's because deep down inside me, something is missing.
To me, life is like one of those "Magic Eye" books. You know, the books where the right page lists items and on the left side you find them, or something like that. If you know the books that I'm taking about, life to me is exactly like that. There's these items listed there, and you find the first few with no problem, then all of a sudden it asks you to find something obscure, like a shoelace or a pine tree in a forest of oaks. You slam the book shut because you've been looking for a long time, but no matter what you do, something always lures you back to that book. Maybe after a while you find what you're looking for, but maybe you never do. Maybe you never will.
I can be in the gym or driving home at midnight from a late shift of work, and all of a sudden that urge hits me. That urge to figure things out and to find that something that's missing. I know it's there just like I know that somewhere in that book hides a shoelace and a pine tree, but sometimes I wonder if I'll find it, if it'll someday hit me right in the face. Will I always be looking, aimlessly and in the dark, or will I eventually become agitated, tired, and numb, and decide to slam the book shut, forever giving up my search for something that like it or not, eats away at me everyday and every night.