Fear and loathing in my late 30s

So why am I even doing this? I suppose it is a ‘labor of love’ as the saying goes but it is also a way for me to understand who the hell I am and what I am doing in the world now. 

I know all this naval gazing ridiculousness is par for the course but as Im headed towards 40 something and now have become a wife and mother to three human beings I feel adrift.

I acknowledge that I don’t have real problems and have so many reasons to be grateful everyday that I am overwhelmed half the time… Like the menopausal woman feeling flush in her cheeks at whole foods wishing she hadnt worn socks on her clogs. I am a white, upper middle class, heteronormative able bodied person and I get that I will never really appreciate the enormity of my blessings. But here we are. 
I weigh something like an extra 30% of my weight before kids and it’s a lot. It’s a lot to me, I don’t know how to get dressed and I honestly don’t enjoy buying clothes anymore because I don’t enjoy it. And I feel bad about feeling bad because now that I’m a mom I will pass that self loathing based on superficial bullshit on to my girls. But I resent not being able to feel bad because I’m still a person and I want to be able to at least wallow in self pity without feeling like I’m letting other people down too. Cause goddamnit there are only so many hours to feel that self loathing shit in a day. 
And I am happy. Very happy and grateful most of the time. But I don’t sleep well because my brain keeps me awake because I’m obsessive (ya think?) and I don’t get to sleep easily without having a drink and so now I drink most nights and that contributes to the self loathing above but I don’t have time or money for therapy but I know I should make time and I don’t so it’s definitely a problem of my own making. And see above. But most of the time I feel like wtf I deserve a glass of wine at the end of the day so what? And so every day is a vicious cycle.

And so I hate getting dressed and I don’t remember what I am or who I am or what the hell I do now. I am trying out running but my old ass knees hurt. I have spent 7 years under water parenting so I don’t have a lot of close friendships that I have spent time cultivating (which I should have) so I just am going to work and coming home and thinking my thoughts. 
All that is to say that feeling like I love something in a space or in architecture or in a piece of furniture is something I still know like an instinct. I don’t have to worry about if it’s the old me who wore skinny jeans and sneakers or if it’s the new me who wears elastic waisted pants and Birkenstocks. It just makes my heart leap. It gets me out of bed. I feel moored and like I don’t have to over analyze.. (…) which I don’t get most other times of day. 
So here I am. And here is this blog. And it’s not doing hero’s work but it’s what I have some days. 

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3 thoughts on “Fear and loathing in my late 30s

  1. And there you are in a constant state of enlightenment. Through design, those adorable monkeys and (the small, but core) friendships you do have. You exist to understand and engage that is what is directly in front of you. The past is for mild reference, the future a mind boggling amount of questionable ‘what ifs’, meanwhile the present is a tangible reality that you embrace. And you do so wth open arms.

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  2. I hear you and I see you! Why is it so hard to be a vibrant woman with her own ambitions and also a mother? It feels like I need at least two lifetimes. When I’m pursuing my own thoughts I lose patience with my girls and their needs but when I’m focused on them I feel a lack of excitement and motivation. Don’t judge me, I’ve been at home for 10 years now! But they still need so much and I don’t see it letting up anytime soon. So, we have our blogs. Is that enough? No. But maybe we can build communities and feel less alone sometimes in our frustrations and our desires and our passions. I, for one, love your point of view.

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