The better part of my life lay bare before me. As the confusion settled, and my mind pieced it all together, my head hung with a pained neck. The accident brought forth the many paths that I had walked. It was not settling.
It began with the turmoil of my twenties and meandered into the freedom of my thirties. While my forties began on an unapologetic note, it has been replaced with silence. Misery is not my song, but happiness is not truly mine.
There is much for which I must give thanks. In the face of a pandemic that has caused people to charter new waters, my steady employment helps to keep me afloat. There are resources available to me with a few good friends to say hey.
My remaining parent has entered her sunset. It is not even something that I can handle just now. While employment is steady, it is not what I truly want. My private life is best retold as a tragic comedy if that genre exists. The better part of 2019 found me delighting in large unhealthy meals with popcorn and ice cream in heavy rotation. It was not until I finally grabbed myself a few weeks ago and said, “Hey, how big are you planning to get? You look like a baby elephant.” Sobering statement to say the least.
While happiness is ultimately my responsibility, I do not know what that would take under the current circumstances. I knew how to make moves in the world prior to Covid. Now, I feel the need to lay low and not go out of my way for anything. My body has a new healing regimen which requires my focus. All I can do is hope that I will adjust to the new world order when it arises.