Hurt

Disappointments happen in every person's life, and lately my life seems to be overflowing with failures.  Just in the past three months there have been multiple times when I was so sure that an event in my life was going to happen one way only to be smacked in the face with a totally different reality.  During these times I have vacillated between trying to be positive and trying to be self-protective.  I believed that staying positive invited more positive energy into my life so I tried to think about all the wonderful things that came along with these events as being inevitable and forthcoming.  "That phone call is going to come with the news you've been waiting hear." Or "That person you care about is going to have a change of heart and reach out to you."  My other default way to handle important events in my life was to act like a boy scout and be prepared. I felt that if I kept my expectations low, then nothing could hurt me.  "I haven't heard by now so the answer is no". Or "His actions tell me everything I need to know about how he feels."  And you know what? Neither attitude has helped cushion the blows that these setbacks have delivered.  

People say that everything happens for a reason and that if a door doesn't open for you, then what was behind it isn't meant for you.  Unfortunately, when you are struggling with the doorknob of your potential future and it isn't budging, the frustration and the defeat felt can be overwhelming.  The latest disappointment (in this long string of setbacks in my life these past few months) has me temporarily down for the count.  I despise feeling sorry for myself but you know what? I really feel like an all-around loser.  Every facet of my existence from my romantic life  to my desire to teach younger children to my wish to become a mother has been crushed under the heavy weight of reality.  It truly has made me want to crawl into my shell and not try to go after my passions anymore.   

After all, playing it safe seems to work for other people.  There are great people out there living single lives by choice and are fulfilled and satisfied while the divorce rate soars.  Most of the teachers I know appreciate the fact of teaching the same grade level year after year because it allows one to hone the craft of teaching to a specific age group.  And most of the childless people I know have much more disposable income without those pesky costs like child care, braces, and tuition to save up for.  The blessings I've had in my life far outnumber the hardships that I've had to face, and there are so many people who would love to be walking in my shoes.  All I have to do is be content with what I have and just ride it out for the next 30 or 40 years of my life.

But to me living a life without goals and dreams to fuel me depresses me to no end.  Is it asking too much to be grateful for what I have yet want a different life? None of my wishes that have been dashed were mean-spirited or meant to hurt any other person.  In fact, at the core of each of my dreams was one simple element: love.  Love of teaching young children...romantic love...maternal love.  Why are these things being denied to me? If I stop hoping for these things to materialize for me, what will be the point of my life? This is my struggle.

As usual, I'm turning to my writing and my music to help soothe my soul.  Putting one foot in front of the other, I will "fake it until I make it"...and listen to some classic sad songs about people with problems much greater than my own.  While more upbeat music might seem like the more logical choice for me tonight, I'm going to let the hushed tones of Johnny Cash and other broken souls teach me how to go on.