Maybe this is better
Maybe, it is better to be older.
Like, maybe this total chaos is still better than being a single 21 year old, schlepping about through life trying to find love.
Because, what 21 year old knows who she is? She doesn’t. No well grounded 21 year old can know herself as well as a slightly confused newly single 36 year old mom. Ok, there are probably exceptions to every rule, but for the most part, I think that 15 years of life experience trumps almost anything a 21 year old can argue.
Because what is life’s greatest teacher?
Find me a 21 year old who has truly good friends to support her? Good friends who are unselfish. Friends will critique her horrific awesome text poetry in the middle of the night. Friends who will actually stay by her, and do what they say they'll do. The really best kind of good friends will cheerfully push a girl’s buttons with a low chuckle until she’s good and cross, and then make her laugh so hard in the next sentence she can’t remember exactly why there had ever been crossness at all.
The best part of all this is that I didn’t know...
I have it really good.
I really do. Even with the stress of school. Even leading a dual life of “motherhood by some days” and “singlehood by others” with no freaking CLUE how that duality could ever be merged.
Of course, that’s just how I know I’m not ready to merge the two. And I guess that’s okay, because there’s a lot more out there to worry about... so, why worry about any of it now?
No real answers come to a person at 11:37 on a Tuesday night.
I sat down with someone the other day who asked me if I was depressed.
Flat. Out. Asked.
Wow. K... Blunt much?
And since I didn’t even see it coming, I answered, “Yes, sometimes. Sometimes it’s hard to get moving when I get stuck.”
“Ok. I wondered.” And then a minute later, “but are you able to have fun when you go out with your friends?”
“Yes.” I answered firmly. And then a slow smile crept across my face as I thought about last weekend. And, I started to giggle as the thought took hold.
That’s nothing, you should see me after beer.
I have seen you after beer.
No, I mean you should see me.. oh yeah.
And as the weeks of nursing school go by, my stress level gets tested daily. I keep raising the bar on the breaking point, because, I really don’t have time to break right now. There are days when I wonder IF I’m going to make it in one piece. Because hell yeah, I’m going to make it. I just wonder what condition I’ll be in when I get to the other side. Life experience has taught me that I will get through this.
That’s not being optimistic, that’s just a fact.
On those days, when my hands are shaking but my 34th cup of coffee has failed to warm me, if I’m lucky, my brutal schedule will allow me to spend time with some of my favorite people. So, I’ll lace on my shoes, strap on my Garmin, and hop in my sucktastic beige minivan, all kinds of ready to drive somewhere ridiculous to run while dodging cars or seeking hills.
And without fail, as I buckle myself in, I can’t suppress the giggle that bubbles out when I glance in the rearview mirror to see a dialysis filter on my back seat.
~savor the run~