Unplugged

The house phone is off the hook. My cell phone is on "silent" and turned face-down so I can't see if someone calls, either. I've been reading this morning, some outdoors, some in the bathtub, and some in bed. I can't say the haze is lifted, but I can announce that I see the faint beginnings of a light somewhere far, far at the other end of the proverbial tunnel.

What do I really want? I mean, that's the question, isn't it? Is it fulfillment? Contentment? Joy? Wealth? Success? Fame? Power? Some subtle combination of all of these things? Does anyone ever really get what they want? Or is everyone living in some perpetual haze where, in comparison to what other people have, they're unhappy or disillusioned? If I say I want wealth, that it would solve all of my problems, am I not just fooling myself? Because I've known plenty of wealthy people, and they all have problems. Granted, they're different problems, but they are problems nonetheless. If I say I want fame, will it just end up being grossly overrated if I achieve it, resulting in a lack of privacy and an outlandish disappointment when there are, inevitably, very vocal critics everywhere, both online and in real, day-to-day life? What if I want peace/contentment? Is there any true peace and/or contentment in this life? What if all I really want is to have a baby? If I have a baby, and I can't sleep at night, and I never lose the twenty pounds I already have to lose and the thirty I'll gain when I'm pregnant, and the beautiful little one grows up to be a sociopath? Then what? I mean really, REALLY, what do I want?

I don't know.

That's the simple answer. There are things that I wish for, that I pray for, even. I pray for love and happiness for my family members. I pray for fertility, for a child to raise from birth to adulthood with my husband without having to share said child with any other parent. I want to be out of debt. I want two vehicles with air conditioning, both headlights, no rust, all four hubcaps, no leak in the coolant system, and all wheel bearings intact. I want weight loss and physical fitness. I want to write for a living, and actually MAKE a living at writing. I pray for safety for all my friends and family. I want acknowledgment when I do something well instead of consistent criticism for the things I don't. I want more schooling. I want to spend a month on the beach. I want to live in Las Vegas. I want new furniture.

I want, I want, I want.

Or is the real question, "What is the bare minimum required for me to feel like life is worth living"? Because I obviously already have that, or I would've offed myself a long time ago. So what am I so depressed about? What's my major malfunction? What is keeping me from having a happy life? Stress? Everyone has that. It crosses all caste barriers. Work? There are very few people in this life that don't have to work for a living, and I'm not special enough to be one of them, so I might as well give up the notion that that will ever happen. Infertility? I've not been technically diagnosed, so actually it's the just anxiety produced by my fear of infertility and lack of faith.

Oh... OH... wait, did I just hit on something there? (The sarcasm is completely opaque, isn't it?)

I'm allowing my anxieties to get the best of me. And not just the best of me, but the best of everything and everyone around me. I'm wallowing in fear, stewing in sadness, and drowning in depression because I'm allowing it to happen. It's a choice I'm making, albeit sub- or unconsciously, at every avenue. If I let it continue, I'm never going to be happy. Or fulfilled. Or content. Or any of the other things to which I may (or may not) be aspiring.

Then the real question is, "What am I going to do about this"?

...

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Hmm.

...

Sigh.


Stephanie Jean