Confessional

Okay, it's not like I don't normally wear my heart on my sleeve - either here on my blog or in real life - but Karen C's post today has inspired me to do so even more. Scared yet? Oh, you should be!

So last night, I had a thought as I was heading off to bed that jarred me more than I thought it had. I couldn't sleep for at least 2 hours after having that thought, as much as I tried to pretend that I'd dismissed it off to the land of denial.

The thought: I've lost all my ambition. I have no goals outside of just holding onto what I got.

Now, this is not something that just disappeared overnight. After getting my college degree, and taking 1/2 a year off, I decided to go back to school to get my paralegal certificate. I went for 2 semesters, but then I just couldn't do it anymore. I was having a harder time finding classes that would fit with my schedule, I was a bit frustrated in the "old school" setting which confined us to multiple-choice questions and lectures without conversation, and most importantly, I knew that Sylvia was going to be going to KIPP, and I knew that she'd need as much support from me as possible, and I didn't want to be away from her on a regular basis.

I thought about making a move anyway from my current job, which is nice and steady, but doesn't offer as many challenges after 5 years as it did in the beginning or chances for a promotion without a paralegal certificate (or law degree; yeah, that's going to happen while raising 2 kids solo! Not to mention the cost - I still have 11 1/2 years left on my college student loans). However, I have a really great situation. I have bosses and co-workers that completely understand and support that, as a single mom, my kids come first. They're just good people. Also, I get good perks and benefits at my particular company. I decided that the pros definitely outweighed the cons, and I still believe that.

And there's this whole condo thing going on; it seems hard enough to hold on to what I have, why try and reach out for what I don't?

I try to tell myself that, even at 35, I have time for a 'second life' of sorts when my kids are older and off living their own lives. That to attempt anything new or additional to what I currently have would be too much and would upset the balance. That I would miss out on some of the wonders of watching them grow.

And yet, I remain feeling...unfulfilled.

My dreams were huge when I was a kid. They seem to just get smaller and smaller in scope. And to a certain extent, I know that's okay and even healthy and normal. But at what point does it become unhealthy? At what point does it become not only bad for me, but bad for my kids? What if I'm trying too hard to hold onto things that maybe aren't even the right things in the first place?

I almost started crying today at Riley's school. (She didn't sing, btw. She had the date wrong; it's not until May. Oh well; she is seven, after all!) I watched her waiting patiently for her turn on the basketball court. She'd gabbed with friends, waved hello to various people, teachers and staff members smiled at the sight of her. She seems so happy there. I almost cried at the thought of her possibly losing this and having to start yet another new school next fall. (But I kept it together.)

And...and here's the big confession...I'm getting a little sick of being alone. I know I've never talked about dating, etc., here...that's because there's nothing to talk about! And I have thought about it, and even attempted it a few times. Nothing's worked out, and I don't expect anything to change in that arena any time soon. I've thought about online dating (and have even made some half-baked attempts) and the like, but then I think about the actual work involved in getting someone to watch the kids, attempting to be charming, worrying about all my faults and baggage...and then it gets even worse when I think about if I actually hit it off with someone! I mean, they'll have their needs and crap...I don't need to worry about caring for any more humans right now, thank you very much (or cats or dogs or fish, for that matter). So I know all that, I really do. Still doesn't stop me from feeling alone every now and then.

So it all comes down to this. I think I need to get back into therapy.

Postscript: this is not a cry for help, sympathy, or pity. I've debated and debated with myself whether or not to post this, but I decided in the end that it was worth it for the sake of saying it. Also, there's no one around to stop me :)