August 9

I am turning 49 in 2 months. It is not great. I spent my 30s married to someone I did not love and have spent most of my 40s digging myself out from under the after effects - psychological, emotional, and financial - of our divorce. So much wasted time.

Someone (@oliviamesser) tweeted that her therapist told her she can start living her life whenever she wants and that is true so far as it goes but at a point, you feel like Brooks Hatlen in Shawshank Redemption - you become institutionalized. That box you've created for yourself that keeps you from pursuing the things that bring you joy or happiness starts feeling comfortable and the idea of breaking out of it becomes scary. 

I am Exhibit A for that - I have the material comfort to do things that most people either do not have the ability to do or have to borrow money to do - yet I live my life in a roughly 5 mile circle between my house, my job, my gym, and the local grocery store. There is nothing stopping me from living my best life other than my complete fear of doing so.

A POT (potential date) asked me the last time I experienced unbridled joy and I could not tell her. Like, it has been so long since I experienced that emotion, I really could not answer that question honestly. Sure, I have moments of happiness - Pumpkin greeting me first thing in the morning, Ghost curled in my arms purring away while I rub his neck - but that endorphin rush that makes being human a unique experience, I think that is gone, like, I think I am dead inside.

Which is what makes aging so depressing. It does not get better from here. *These* are the years I was supposed to be living and now I sit here thinking: “gee, another 30 years of THIS."

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