Here I Go Again

I start, and stop.

I type, then delete.

I open a new document, then close it quickly.

 

I try, then I don't.

I'm stuck.

And I don't know where to go from here.

 

Writing has always been the thing that's come easiest to me.

Not math. Not art. Not talking (ughhh talking).

 

Writing is how I've best expressed myself.

It's how I've gotten things off my chest, preserved my sanity.

 

But lately I find myself stuck in a cycle.

I want to say something, but I don't know how, or if I should.

It all seems so silly. I feel very silly.

 

Who am I to say anything anyways?

 

So I draft posts I never publish.

I sit on ideas, or I bury them down deep. 

 

It feels like months have passed, with me barely scratching the surface of what's going on in my heart and my head.

And now I'm here, with so many thoughts (too many thoughts), thoughts I haven't shared, thoughts I haven't even made sense of for myself.

And with all these pesky ideas floating about, unchecked, it's hard to figure out my next move.

In a few days I'll enter the last year of my 20's. And that feels big, in a way I'd like to avoid.

I always get nostalgic around the date of my birthday, but this year it's worse.

This year it's full-blown overwhelming.

 

It's just so confusing how I got here.

It's like I went to bed worried about getting my driver's permit, and woke up here, with adult responsibilities.

 

I feel like I missed a class everyone else took, a class about growing up, learning the ropes of adulthood. 

And it weirds me out knowing I'm "old enough" to have kids, to buy a house, to do a lot of things I'm not doing right now.

It weirds me out seeing people my age look their age, and act their age, when most days I still feel like a foolish fifteen-year-old trapped in an unfamiliar body.

 

Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for the great things that have happened in recent years, things I couldn't have imagined at 15.

 

I'm thankful for my husband, and new friends, for a job, a place to live and two working vehicles.

I'm thankful for my family, and living close enough to see them often.

I'm thankful to have old friends. I don't take that blessing of time for granted.

 

But I also feel stuck a lot of days, like I'm spinning my wheels.

 

What comes next? What should I do? 

How on earth do I spend this next fleeting year?

 

At 15 my plans were pretty clear. Finish high school. Finish college. Marry Paul Walker.

I had an idea where life was headed, and the steps how to get there.

 

Now, there are more questions than answers.

And there is no clear map. No Cliffs Notes. No easy, right way.

 

There's just life, one step at a time.

One day at a time, one year at a time.

 

Oy. I wasn't ready for this.

But here I am anyways.

 

I've toyed around with the idea of a bucket list to accomplish before I turn 30.

Maybe I will set that as a goal. But maybe life is enough of a goal.

 

I've also done a lot of thinking about this little ol' blog and where I want it to be headed.

But maybe a well-devised plan isn't the key to the kind of success I want.

 

Mostly I've just been scattered, and stuck, and overwhelmed.

(All familiar words if you've been here before.)

 

They're words I'd love to avoid, but words I may have to embrace instead.

'Cause they don't seem to be going away. And I'm tired of trying to outrun them.

 

Maybe it's silly to put this, of all things, out there.

I could've done a "Stuff I Want for My Birthday Post," or "Unique Ideas for Honoring Mom."

 

But here I am, putting my scattered thoughts on "paper."

Sending unfiltered, unorganized ideas out into the world.

 

'Cause maybe I'm hoping someone out there can relate, to the feeling that they missed that crash course in growing up.

Maybe someone else out there is struggling ungracefully through this shift into adulthood.

 

Maybe someone, anyone, needs to know that she's not alone, in not knowing what she's doing, while doing it anyway.

'Cause that's exactly where I am, not knowing how or why, but doing it anyways.

 

Writing and deleting.

Starting and stopping.

 

Taking one wobbly, unsure step at a time.

One day, and one birthday at a time.

 

I'm lookin' up, for now.

(We'll need to talk again when it's the big 3-0 I'm staring down.)