I just want a thousand things at once. I want to be young and free. I want to go out. I want to get drunk. I want to go out dancing. I want to have time enough to sit under trees and stare. I want the city and the hum of the streets. I want everything and it’s an overwhelming state. I want to be able to do all of these things and still be a mother. Maybe there is a place of balance. Where I can do all things at once. I think that’s possible. A little of everything. Just to keep me sane. There are too many things I haven’t done in years. That was another thing that really rattled me when I started going out for the first time. This feeling of…whaaaaaaaat have I been doing?

I couldn’t cope with everything…all the crazy ways I felt so different from everyone around me so I thought that somehow that meant I was ready to be done being young. Just to give up everything. And that was always a foolish, half-baked thought. I wish I had time to audition, to act, to be in a show. I wish I had time to paint, to commit to writing, to taking photographs. I wish I had time for so many things and I wish life hadn’t dragged me down that spiral staircase, gotten me depressed and made me believe the only thing that would make me happy was to get married and have a baby. Well then, of course, life woke me up just in time to realize all my options have been taken from me. Well, that’s a funny turn of events. Thanks life, this is surely a unique curveball.

It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. I have to walk with the knowledge in my heart that it is right even though my brain keeps pounding over and over that I am fucked. Both things can exist at the same time. A feeling of total contentedness and total outrage at the same time. And it’s true. Both things are really true. I really love being a mother. I love how it gives my life meaning, takes away feelings of guilt that I didn’t get done what I wanted to get done, it clears my head, it draws me in to life, it gives my days shape and power and light. He makes me happy, he makes me sing, he makes me laugh and he makes me full of awe and wonder. And strangely enough, it feels right. What I need at the right time and place. And clearly he is right. He needs to exist. He is an incredible beam of light that has every right to the world and all it has to offer.

And at the SAME time I feel like the rug has been pulled out from underneath me. Somedays I just can’t even believe where all the time as gone. I can’t even believe I just gave it all up. I had prospects as an actress, real prospects. I was really on a path. My mouth is just agape just trying to digest it all. And I can’t, and I won’t be able to. But not only does Jeff not understand what I’ve given up for him, he doesn’t want me to ever think about it…he just wants to hide me away in the Sourlands and keep me trapped there so I can’t ever leave. And just…clean the yurt. And watch his dog.

Ugh. I’ve been really afraid to voice those thoughts. So they’ve just been bouncing back and forth in my head. Like it’s horrible of me to feel conflicted about being a mother. And it’s not NECESSARILY that. It’s just that I want everything all at the same time. I don’t know where that leaves me. But I guess I can just be glad that I am out of my funk. That’s a good way to look at it. Out of my anti-social 3 year funk. Back to myself. At a really fucking great time.

And it’s really quite insane but I just think I hadn’t found the right social place for a while. I was so frustrated with Dan and Bryan and their social circles and how they spend their time. And I was gone from college. And Max didn’t want to do anything. And Jeff didn’t want to do anything. Ever. And all of my friends…the way they spent their time…I just didn’t understand it. And the weirdest fucking thing was going to Trenton Social and being like…this finally feels right? WTF is that. Like creative and interesting people in a creative and interesting space. What. And just music…that’s one of the only things that makes sense to me. People making it and people basking in it. That makes sense to me. Creation. Not just going out to lunch or dinner to just feel as if you’re being hip by participating in some aesthetic that is supposed to be popular and reciting names of places you know to go to that also reflect some aesthetic that doesn’t really have anything to do with anything but what is hip in the moment. And not a bar where you are just drowning in everything. A place just big enough and just small enough to actually be conducive to creation. I don’t understand how life keeps finding me too late or too quickly. I don’t understand. But I don’t want to live this life of never doing anything ever with Jeff for the rest of my life. It’s insane. And so I do things without him and he hates me for it. I have to figure all of this out. But I don’t know how.


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