“Close your eyes and imagine the best version of you possible. That’s who you really are, let go of any part of you that doesn’t believe it.”

-C. Assaad

I am 41, and I am tired.

There’s not enough time for me to write about all of the things of which I’m tired. Mostly, though, I’m tired of myself. My brain chemistry. My fears. My inability to move forward.

Say this out loud to any supporter/loved one, and they’ll say things like, “Just one step at a time!” and “There’s nothing to be scared of!” Well no shit, dude. Do you honestly think that I made it this far in life without realizing that? I’m pretty smart, you know. I’m also just fucking broken. Right now, trying to type this has taken me almost an hour. I can’t concentrate on the thread of what I want to say versus ALL the other thoughts that are cycling in my brain. I’m in therapy for the myriad of fears and concerns, and maybe it’s working? I don’t know. It feels like every few days there’s something new.

I’m trying nootropics. Today is the first day of a month-long test run of a brand called Thesis. I’ve heard good things. I’m praying they’re true. Otherwise, I need to get on real drugs, and while that’s fine, I’m also about to be in a pickle re: health insurance, because…

I’m quitting my job.

I’m starting my own company.

I have absolutely no savings, and a phenomenal amount of debt. What in hell am I thinking? I’m thinking that I’m tired.

I’m tired of my thoughts being stretched so thin and tangled so confusingly. I’m tired of hating my day from the moment I wake up. I’m tired of not living authentically. I’m tired of not being the center of my life, or even a brief afterthought. I am tired of being so afraid to live that I just give all of my time and energy to people who don’t care about me and to projects that don’t actually leave a legacy. I’m tired of not feeling free to just have fun and be playful. I feel smashed flat.

I want my life to be some sort of graffiti on the wall. Anna was here. HERE. Doing this thing about which she cared passionately. Lighting up the room when she discussed her interests. Having moments of deep concentration and connection every day. Celebrating the textures and sound waves that form and inform us.

I don’t know how to do any of this. I feel incredibly behind my peers. I’m 41, with no children, no spouse, no home, no savings, no career trajectory, no name. Just a vague idea of who I’d like to be at the end of the day, and a vague idea of where to start to get to that point. I’m old enough that the thought of my partner suddenly dying of a heart attack has its roots in real stories. I’m old enough that if I don’t start to exercise every single day, I’m going to lose bone density and put myself in danger. I’m old enough that children could be an option, if I adopted, but will I really have enough energy for them if we wait longer than, say, tomorrow? There’s no answer to any of these things, and I don’t expect any. Instead, I’ll concentrate on what I can do, and only that.

• I can quit my job and give my life back to myself.
• I can plant a garden and grow food for us.
• I can learn to can food, and put up excess vegetables and fruits to get us through the next year.
• I can make our cleaning supplies.
• I can make a promise to not buy a single new piece of clothing or tchotchke that I don’t need.
• I can do yoga and take walks every day.
• I can finish my business website.
• I can close my credit card.
• I can solicit new work through friends, family, and the internet.
• I can stop taking jobs out of fear, and start only taking jobs that align with my needs as a person.
• I can save money in my savings account.
• I can devote a portion to each day to being more spiritually connected.
• I can still find ways to travel without spending too much money.
• I can travel and work at the same time.
• I can work on exactly the types of projects that inspire me and make me happy.
• I can charge a rate that makes it possible to live a fulfilling life, with time to both work AND live.

That’s all I’ve got for the moment. I need to go do some work on a project that is not my ideal kind of work, but will sustain me for a bit. I’m going to get this figured out. There’s so little life left; I want to start living it.