I'm sitting here thinking about yet another transition in my ongoing struggle with the lack of progression and a sense of restlessness within myself. Then it dawned on me:
For the many things I am grateful for, they aren't enough.
Now, don't throw eggs on my face just yet. What I mean by this is I'm thankful for so many things. I'm saving some money. I have a family. I have friends that have become extended family. I'm not starving. I'm learning something new just about everyday. And I'm breathing.
But that's just it. That's it.
I'm not excited about life like I used to be. I'm not as excited about meeting new people like I used to be. I'm not excited about building on present relationships like I used to be.
Then this just came out of my mouth mere moments before I started typing this:
"I want something to wake up to every morning outside of just breathing. I'm tired of breathing; I want to live."
That pretty much sums up what I think has been brewing inside of me over the last two years. It's not a matter of being ungrateful and not seeing the forest for the trees. It's a matter of understanding what makes me happy and what keeps me satisfied, and nothing has. I'm just waking up every morning wishing I could go back to sleep. I don't like leaving the house most days. I'm not excited about my new move and I'm scared to death what happened here and before will happen there.
I guess I'm afraid I'll suffocate if I can't get to happy.
I don't like just breathing.
I want to have something to live for, too.
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