So some very generous folks have decided they want to live out in the boonies of NE Georgia, and have bought the property. While the proceeds aren't enough for me to retire necessarily (Especially once the IRS decides to claim their part of it), it does give me the chance to take some time off from working for a few weeks, possibly the summer. What will I do with myself, when I don't have to be up at the crack of dawn, pushing hamburgers?
Sadly, I haven't figured this out quite yet. It's just one question of many in my life right now.
It's got to the point I don't really know who I am any more. If I ever really knew to begin with. My opinion of myself has always been colored by the opinions given to me by those around me. Opinions which, while I don't think they're necessarily wrong....really aren't who I feel like I am as a person. I have done things. I'm a human being, not a saint.
I find myself alone quite often. And 99% of the time I don't mind it.... The trouble arises on that 1% when I don't want to be alone and can do nothing about it. Because I have grown to dislike being around people. And NOT being lonely involves being around them. But not being around people means being isolated. Which makes me lonely at times. It's a circular pattern I've grown accustomed to.
I am, apparently, only happy when I am unhappy.
What is wrong with me?
A better question would be more like, "What is NOT wrong with me?" You could argue that'd be better to ask as it'd be a more positive question....
I would argue it is better simply because it's a shorter list to get through.
What, then, have I got right in this life? I am living in a singlewide mobile home in a virtual "dead zone" (internet, cell phone coverage, etc), with a college degree I can't use. And a man I'm not even sure I love any more. So at the moment the answer would probably be: not much.
Perhaps I am approaching this at the wrong angle. Before I can figure out what I am, perhaps I need to figure out what I am *not*. But I'm not sure even of this. I don't remember much of what I used to like to do, even, besides grow things in buckets. And have my nose shoved in a book. Surely I had more hobbies than this?
If I stop to think about what makes me, me..... it's like I'm a total blank. Even my feelings. I don't know how I even feel most days.
So who am I, really?
Is there anyone else out there who feels as I do? (or not feels, as the case may be)