I am not sure what my problem is. I am tired but I am ready to go out and run–far away. Run fast. And I am not a fast runner. I never have been and I certainly am not now. I don’t feel like doing anything but I have a million things I could be doing. I just want to be left alone but I am lonely. My life is not my own. I know that now. I will take care of my mom until she passes away and she is 80. I love her but did I really want this for my life? No, not really. Selfish, I know. She wasn’t the most nurturing of mothers but even if she was, I probably would still want my life to live. I am here pretty much alone with no help. Whine, whine, whine.

I guess I am just tired. Bottom line. I feel like I have this great story to tell inside of me and I sit down to write it and I can’t get it out. I keep thinking I can be a great writer, that I have a best seller just sitting there, waiting to be written inside of me. Don’t we all? How long will I keep thinking this? On my deathbed will I be thinking “I should have written that book…” Or should I just go for it and try and write it? It’s hard to with little privacy. Again, whine, whine, whine.

I look outside my bedroom window and it is just a gray day. It hasn’t been sunny for awhile and maybe that is the problem. I need sunlight. This weather is depressing. Am I depressed? Maybe I am. I know nobody’s life really turns out the way they think it is going to, but mine really hasn’t. I never married, I always chose the wrong guys. I had a chance to have a baby once and didn’t because I was scared of being alone after being threatened, and then I could physically not have any more. I have had to financially take care of myself but after being mentally broken down and having dealt with depression I went on disability. It has been hard. I am still on disability but work part-time. Things have gotten easier but I have watched my siblings go on vacations and I have thought that maybe, if I had married, I could have afforded something like that. I just always thought I would marry and have children. Just didn’t happen. It is frustrating at times and now I get to take care of our mother while they still travel around the world. Whine, whine, whine.

I have gotten a chance to travel. I save and save for it. This June I will be going to Maine (some of it courtesy of American Airlines due to a voucher from a reimbursement they gave me when there was a computer glitch in Charlotte, NC…coming home from Asheville, NC I nearly did not make it home and things were a mess…) and in November, 2020 I am going on a bus tour around Italy. I pay on that monthly and will have it paid off by that August before we go. Never easy. I hope to marry someday; I hope to find “my person” but I never get out, so it will be difficult, I guess. I hope to write that best seller (ha ha). I hope to keep my friends, make new ones, keep my weight off. I hope to get out of this funk that I am in.

I hope that the sun comes out soon. I hope that there is a cure for tinnitus and fibromyalgia someday soon. I hope, I hope, I hope. A girl can hope, you know. And dream. I don’t want to wake up. These are good dreams. Sometimes reality is not so good. But sometimes it isn’t as bad as it seems.

I will wake up in time to go to work this afternoon. Until then, I am going to dream…