Warning: Pity Party Commenced

Do you ever feel like you are just not cut out for real life? It's too hard. You look at those who you may have once accused of being coddled and think, Man, they have it made! And your friends who have it even tougher than you and think, How do they do it?? You may dream of beaches, warm sand, the sound of a never ending tide that washes back and forth, tuning out the struggles that weigh so heavily on your frail heart. And then wake up and realize you are still here. In the real world. And boy does it suck.

Too often in life I am caught between the act of dreaming and doing in this awkward and rather claustrophobic spot of surviving. Survival sounds like such a tough word, one used to describe the strong and determined. But if you've ever been there, you know how terribly weak and small it feels. Survival is not on the warm sand by the rhythmic tide, survival is in the midst of the waves. Crashing down on you. Your only job is to keep your head above water, and most of the time that feels like much too much.

Let me clarify... I am in the midst of packing up my house. Again. And to make matters worse, it's the first day of fall. So naturally I am procrastinating by writing a sappy post about how hard life is. It's kind of my thing. I'm sipping my second cup of coffee, complaining about the freezing "fall" weather (it's 61 degrees! It might as well be winter!), grumbling about all the idiots romantics oohing and ahhing about this pumpkin-flavor-filled season, and feeling extra depressed about the fact that my pregnancy/stress-eating weight is still safely attached to my body--meaning I won't be fitting any of my cool weathered clothes any time soon.

Don't get me wrong, there is plenty to be thankful for. It's just, it's the first day of fall. And I'm moving again. So I'm going to pout for a bit.

"I Don't Know."

There comes a time in life when you just have to admit it. This is who I am. And the puffing up and self-proclaimed confidence are just coping mechanisms that help you deal with the reality you like to pretend isn't real. Every time I make a life decision, people ask me questions. LOTS of questions. Not just about me, but about my husband, and my kids, and how I am going to make sure they are all doing what they need to do. My assumption is they want to feel like I know what I am doing and that I've got everything under control.

But guess what?

I don't. This is my first life. I'm still figuring things out. It just doesn't come as naturally to me as it seems to come to others. I like to use the generalized, "I'm human" response when explaining how lost I really am. But I am beginning to wonder if that word doesn't mean what I think it means. Because when I admit that I am really insecure, and I don't know what to do, and I actually don't have any real idea what life's answers are, people tend to look at me like, "Oh you poor thing..."

Yes, I know, I am normal. No one really knows what they are doing. We are all figuring it out. But there is an unspoken rule that you can only admit you are lost if you then have a plan to make it right. To figure it out. Because I think the fear is, if your answer is, "I don't know." And you have no plan on how to "know" then the sky might fall and bury you in despair and hopelessness. And there is nothing people like less than someone they can't fix.