I’ve been thinking about writing something about the year that is now gone. I usually list all my achievements and all the nice things that happened and try to make a list of things I want for the year to come. However, this year I was just not in the mood for it. I had a long vacation that ends in about two days, and I am quite looking forward to it. Having a lot of free time is not good for me. I need a purpose; I need something to do. I need to feel useful; I need a challenge; I need an obstacle to overcome. Or maybe not… I really don’t know, and I think this is what pisses me off.
Here’s the thing… I never thought I would make it this far. All my achievable dreams from when I was young were to get married to a decent enough guy and have some kids to take care of that if I’m lucky will keep my mind busy enough that I won’t get too philosophical. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I have no idea of knowing which, that did not happen. What happened is that the unachievable dreams became a reality. You know how some kids dreams to be astronauts and go to Mars? Well, there is a possibility for a very small group for that to happen nowadays, but when I was a kid, having dreams like that was just… making conversation. We all knew no matter what you do, that shit ain’t gonna happen. Living in almost rural Romania, means that dreams that sound achievable to some, were mostly unachievable for most of us. For me as a girl, being financially independent, owning my own house and my own car and writing books – these were my unachievable dreams. Talking about this kind of dreams, was like playing Dungens and Dragons, I could imagine scenarios and even throw a dice that will get the quest done, but that just meant the game was over.
I hope at this point, after all my metaphors, it is pretty clear that I am in a very very … unexpected place/time/stage/position(!?) in my life. The blog subtitle should make it obvious that if I had any expectations for my life, I kinda’ exceeded them. This might seem like I am bragging and complaining about is stupid and unfair to people still trying to define themselves or achieve their goals. I achieved them and I’m unhappy, how do I even dare?
I have this friend; he exchanges cars more often than I change insurance for my car. And last night when he happily introduced me to his new acquisition, I just couldn’t be happy for him, because I finally asked him what if there is something wrong with him? If there is a hole he is trying to fill? If he feels unworthy and bought this car to feel better about himself or prove to the world, he is worthy which then will make him feel good about himself. I sounded like a prick, telling him he got an asshole car, but I just don’t get it. It’s like he has a mid-life crisis every 6 months and I am worried about him. I am worried he will work himself to death and screw up his personal life, or decimate his options of having one because he has to work and pay for the car and the other shiny/expensive things he buys for himself.
Today I tried to see his point of view, that he bought the car because he wanted it since he was a child playing NFS. Maybe his dreams are big because he did not grow up as poor as I did. Maybe my dreams are small because of it. So, I started looking at cars too, because I wanted a Porsche since I was a student, but then I stopped wanting a Porsche and started dreaming about a Tesla and then Elon Musk became a prick and I stopped wanting that too.
So, back to the original story, I looked for a Porsche and the funny thing is I can afford it, but I know for sure the excitement of having a Porsche will not last. Also, I work from home and when I go to work it is cheaper and more practical to use the train. Why the hell would I buy a Porsche? It would be like marrying Ben Barnes and spending time with him with him once a month, but all the while paying for his every need. It makes no sense, and it would be such a waste of Ben Barnes and my money. Safe to say, I am not getting a Porsche.
The realization that I don’t need a Porsche to be happy opened a different can of worms, however. Most of my life I’ve been driven by need and fear. There is no special thing I was aiming towards, just wanted to have control over my own person, just wanted to have enough money for that. What that meant changed over time and the latest shape it took was owning a house in which I felt safe, owning a house that checked so many of my boxes that it was worth taking a credit for the next 24 years of my life. I remember wanting to learn to swim as a child and wanted to know how to ride a bike. I did not want to own the swimming pool; I did not really want to own a bike. I wanted to be able to do those things myself, I wanted the knowledge to do those things. And most of my life the things I wanted could not really be bought, they just required a set of very peculiar circumstances and a lot of effort from me.
So, here I am living the life I used to dream about but knowing that will never come true and there is nothing to push me forward. There is no need, I have no crazy-but-sort-of-achievable dream to fuel my ambition. There is nothing left to prove to my peers, the country girl that came from nothing is now at the top of middle-class earners in the freaking UK. And I hate it, because I know I am in this comfortable bubble and if I stay here too long, I will become mediocre. But maybe it is ok to be mediocre and if not happy, at least … chill. I feel like I should be working towards doing something extraordinary with my life, but I do not know what that is. I thought about talking to a therapist, but I don’t even know what to say to them… Hey here’s the thing, I’m not happy that I am happy. What can you give me for this?
I just… I guess I don’t think I know how to live without fighting to survive or fighting to prove people wrong about me. I fear I hit my peak as a human, and from here there is only downfall.
2021 was relatively normal, I bought a house, I bought a cat, I painted my house and cut my hair. And I published another book. Buying a house is quite an achievement, right? I should be over the moon, and I was… for three months. Now I’m like, meh… I hope the mortgage is worth it. I would like to say that I made new friends, but if this pandemic has underlined something for me is the fact that I am getting used to being a hermit and if 90% of the people would die, it would not affect me that much.
What expectations and hopes I have for 2022? Honestly, I hope the dentist calls me to start the extensive work I need on my teeth. I also hope my ovaries still work as expected or at least they stopped working properly because of an early menopause and not cancer. I am currently fighting some weird acne and my face looks worse than it did when I was 14 and going through puberty. And also hope my GP takes me seriously about my worries about them, even if they are not as important as fucking COVID.(Thanks for that anti-vaxxers, I hope you all die!) And I hope my books sell better this year, so I have some slither of motivation to write the last three, because my intention to stop at ten is still there. And I really, really hope my old cat doesn’t die this year.
See? Whatever I desire, cannot be bought with money. Or at least not with the money I have now. Because maybe, I can pay the doctors to jump the queue, however unethical and immoral this is, but no amount of money will be able to stop my cat from dying.
Heh… welcome to 2022 everybody. I hope you have achievable dreams and get to enjoy them when you achieve them, not like this here bitter old hag.
Stay safe, stay happy!