Thursday, March 5, 2015

Mid-Life Crisis

I think I'm going through a mid-life crisis. Or maybe not, but something I go through every so often. I don't think it's related to my mood disorder either. I kind of wish it were though so I would have a better excuse. It's just that, sometimes I don't feel like me anymore. I was a different person back in college. I know what you're thinking, "weren't we all"? It's not like I was some crazy, out-of-control party girl or anything. I went dancing every weekend at actual dance clubs. Do they even have those anymore? Or just bars with music? I didn't go out drinking or anything like that, just dancing. But it was a huge part of my life. I've always loved music and dancing. I took dance as a little girl and all through high school. Senior year, I discovered there were places you could go listen to amazing music and do just that. I don't know why, but techno music has always spoken to me. In college, I would go dance for like three or four hours straight. Can you really see an almost 39 year old woman at a dance club? You would think, "Oh, how pathetic. She's trying to pretend she's still 21."
The problem-I still feel like I am inside. I've always been independent and had to grow up early due to my parents' divorce. So I don't feel like I had to mature or anything when I got married and started popping out kids. My body has just gotten older. Sure I probably couldn't go three hours without stopping, but I could definitely do it with a few water breaks. I'm not in shape anymore, but I still feel like I could do it.
This used to be me. The punk rock girl who had purple hair for a salon photo shoot once. The girl who practically lived in Dickies and a wife beater. The girl who had a "Mean People Rule" sticker on her car. The girl who danced all night, who didn't care what other people thought of her, who wasn't afraid to be her true self all the time, who wore funky clothes that didn't always match, who was a social butterfly. The girl with the tattoos. I miss that girl. Obviously the tattoos are still there, but the rest of her disappeared. I don't want to totally blame it on being a mom and feeling like I have to be a good example, but that is a part of it. Can you imagine if I showed up for church with an entire head of pink hair? And I definitely can't get any more tattoos. The problem is, tattoos are addictive. I told B yesterday that if I could, I would at least have one on my inner forearm and on my calf. Perhaps even another on my back. Why is it appealing to me you wonder? Everyone gets them because they think it makes them stand out or be different when really they're following the crowd? No, to me, I just plain like them. They're an outward expression of who I am. I could care less if other people thought they were "cool". In all honesty, if my kid wanted a blue mohawk or ended up with a tattoo someday, I wouldn't care. What you look like on the outside doesn't necessarily have anything to do with your spiritual well-being. My appearance wouldn't change that. But I feel like I have to live up to certain standards. I feel like I'm supposed to fit into a mold, be a good example to my kids. The person I am now is afraid of being judged. I prefer to be alone, sometimes have panic attacks. Every so often, I feel like I've disappeared and it makes me sad. And I don't know how to deal with it. So, if the characters in my books have tattoos, just know I'm living vicariously through them.