this growing up thing sucks

Just a little warning. This post is gonna be really long. There is a lot on my mind lately. It's something like 26 days until I am 30 years old. What the hell is that all about? Wasn't it just yesterday that I was 13 years old and borrowing my sisters clothes? She had cool clothes. I really like to wear her REM & Twin Peaks (the TV show) t-shirts. She also had a couple really cool Espirt rayon shirts. Remember Espirt bags? Mine was light pink (which is crazy, because now I hate pink.) Sometimes I would wear her shirts without her even knowing it. She was in high school when I was in junior high and would leave for school before me and she was so involved at school that I would get home before she did. I am sure she knew. I was never really good at hiding things. So, yeah. Aren't I still that little girl. Little in many senses of the word. Little, because I could fit into my sister's clothes. Can't do that any more. Little, because I still feel so immature. So unprepared for this whole "real world" thing. To me, the real world was a TV show that I never got to watch because we never had cable. I was so unprepared. But how do you prepare your children for what life is gonna throw at them? I am not blaming anyone. If anyone, I blame myself.
I don't like to do things that require much effort.
I have no motivation.
I am very needy.
These are all things that I have come to learn about myself in the last few weeks and months. These are all very unhealthy things. These are all things I can change. But, see problem #1. It's a vicious circle I have found myself in. I don't like the direction my life has taken. I am scared my marriage isn't as solid as I wish it was. Who am I kidding? I know it's not. We work on it. We talk. So, that's good. But forward progress seems to be absent. I will not let it fail. I will fight with my last dying breath to save my marriage. We just need to find some common ground. We need to realize that our differences are not a bad thing. So, I am struggling with all these things all at once and I feel like I have lost all hope. Hope used to be the thing that got me thru the day. But what do you do when you feel like all hope is gone? Is that really what being an adult is? Hopelessness? You lose all that innocence of childhood where you look into the future with such hope. Is that really what this is all about? I really don't want to believe that is the case. But the older I get, the less hope I have. Bringing us to today, where I feel like there is none left. So, I am growing up. Maybe I am off the mark with this. Maybe this is just happening to me at the same time and it has gotten all mixed up. Adulthood = hopelessness. Great. If that is really the case, I want to just stop now. I want off the train. The train that doesn't freaking stop. It hits horrible speed bumps and killer ups and downs, but never stops. Only one way to stop it. I want my hope back. I want to feel like everything will be ok.
When I was little, I never cried alone. My mom would always come into my room a few minutes after I stormed off and slammed my door. Even if I had said horrible things to her, she would come in and hug me when I cried. The older I get, I find myself crying alone all the time. I know my mom would come and hold me if she could, but she is not always going to be around. (That is another post for another time. I can't even go there right now.) But I still want that. I can't seem to convince myself that everything will be ok, anymore. I could tell myself that for a long time. But I feel like I am just lying to myself now. I don't think it will be ok. I don't think things will work out. No hope. So, there's the neediness. I need to be comforted and held. I need that. I don't really think it is too terrible, though. Who doesn't want that? Some people, I guess.
I feel like my life has no direction. I have no goals. No ambition. Nothing to contribute. Am I really supposed to be someone's mother? Am I? Is that what I am supposed to do? That is all I have ever wanted. But then why aren't I? Why can't I?
One week from today... one year since my first miscarriage. I told Chris this last night. He said, "You still think about that?" I said, "How could I not?"
This is an identity crisis. A midlife crisis? Lets hope not mid life, but something like that. Maybe these milestone birthdays exist to force you to examine your life, good or bad.