Destined, or not.

What if I’m not destined for anything? What if this is really just it. There are millions of people in this world and how many of them will ever be known to more than just their families. I’m beginning to think that I am one of those people. I wish I could believe that as long as I’m a good person and care about the people in my life that my life will have mattered. I don’t feel that way. I’m starting to feel like I will never really do anything in my life that will make any type of influence, not even in my immediate life.
When I was young I would spend hours in the back yard pretending that I was on a never ending sitcom. I would spout off these monologues until my throat was sore. I thought that I was so interesting and so intriguing that anyone who could have been watching me would have. I was convinced that my life was made to be broadcast, to be shared, to help teach people and help them grow. Even at the age of ten I thought that I was so hard-done-by everyone would want to hear my tale.
My life, thus far, has not been anything worthy of even a low budget independent film that is only aired on PBS after midnight. I grew up in Northern Vermont with a nice family. I wasn’t abused, my Dad worked away a lot but I knew he loved me. I went through a brief six year stint of anorexia, nothing that abnormal for my age group at the time. I saw some pretty fucked up shit at the first college I went to and I completely messed up my first real relationship. I suffered from severe depression and needed medication for a while and than I got better.
Now I look at my life and I worry that I’m never going to really do anything with it. I go to work, and it’s a good job but it’s not some high profile job where I am making a name for myself, nor is it some small meaningful job working at a grassroots foundations. If living my life didn’t make any marks on this world than shouldn’t I be trying to do something in my professional life? Am I just going to be fine with getting by? I had so many dreams and delusions when I was a child. I just gave up on all of them. I don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up anymore. For so long I think that I just wanted to be content, not wake up every morning wanting to kill myself. Now that I have accomplished that I have stopped. I’ve stopped wanting.
I have become like so many others, I just live my life from day to day. I get caught up in different men that may come my way but for the most part I just do what I have to and then do it again the next day. I can see this being the rest of my life. Now I just have to decide if this is all I want. Am I okay just having my life play out and know that after I die I will have made no impression on history. Do I even have the ability to do anything substantial with my existence? Have I grown so lazy in my constant state of comfort that I wouldn’t even want to work at anything any more? I don’t know what will be worse if I just keep on keeping on, or if I actually try to make something of myself.

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About D.D.W

Life can be a little hard at times, I write about it to make it a little less painful.

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