I've always felt that I had something to say...well, that I had some type of writing that needed to be done. As if it were one of my purposes in life. I can't figure out where to start. I can't seem to write every day. I think I need to start with one sentence, or maybe a subject to break through the block. I'm at such a strange part of my life. Staying at home with the girls has been odd for me. I love them and I'm so happy with who they are becoming, but I am lacking in being interesting--I feel. I'm quite boring, actually. I'm a little needy. I come across as wanting a connection with someone so badly that I feel it's a turn off. I've been going to a women's group...well, I had my first session this past week. It was eye opening, sort of. We all had very similar feelings about raising children and about feeling boring and lacking a real connection with anyone. We all seem to have lost our true sense of self. Maybe it isn't just a mom thing...but a human thing. Some just seem more put together than others. I'm not sure I've ever been put together--at least not how I'd like to be. I am always insecure about making new friends. Insecure about my "weirdness."
I have a general high anxiety level that makes me feel set apart from other people. It makes me want to talk about how I'm feeling a lot in a way to understand it or to compare it to how others feel. There are about 3-4 people in the world that I always feel comfortable talking about how I really feel without worrying what they are thinking.
At this point in my life...I continue to wonder if I will always feel like this. If I will ever have a strong sense of self. If I will be able to come across as confident and wise to my daughters. If I will always have issues with anxiety and the feeling of not being complete. There seems to be a crucial thing missing from my life--and I can't figure out quite what it is.
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