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Stop Stopping
I’m in a weird place in my life. That much is obvious. I’m anxious. Worried. I’m drinking every night. Yes, just one drink. But that drink is a doozy. A cocktail, or a glass of wine that goes right to my head and leaves me in a kind of fog, which is probably exactly where I want to go because, yes, I’m anxious and upset these days. I seem to wake up in that state most mornings.
What’s going on with me?
My daughter is leaving for college in the fall, of course. Of course, this is a big deal. I built my life around taking care of my children, as have most of us mothers and many of us fathers.
When I got pregnant the first time, I was flooded with joy and tenderness, but the dominant feeling was relief. Finally, I could stop thinking about myself, about my worries, my fears. Finally, I could muffle the tape running in my mind about what I was doing wrong. Finally, I could stop the voice questioning again and again, what are you doing? Why are you doing that? Why don’t you know what you want to do, what you’re about? What matters to you? How will you make a difference? What will you do with your one perfect life?
Now, that life is more than half over, and I fear I’m still a zombie in the face of these important questions.
When I realized I was pregnant, I finally knew what I had to do, and that was care for this new…
