Man, life sucks sometimes. Like ferserious.
I've been wondering, often, how I ended up here with no idea what I'm doing. I know a lot, there's no denying it. But how did I end up trying to explain death to my three year old? How did I end up wondering when it is appropriate to reveal in a friendship that I attend group therapy? How can I not just have "it" together?
How am I supposed to navigate all the day-to-day stuff while the social ideal our species dreamed up falls to shit? While I worry if my children's generation will be poisoned by all the chemicals we've saturated ourselves with - or if we'll survive or thrive in the coming depression (it is coming, stop denying it and get ready for it - seriously) - or all the other freaky un-knowables like, where will the next big disaster happen? Will my parents be able to retire? Age, disease, ecology, economy, spirituality, plus the responsibility of raising kids in a mental minefield.
I get it, I do. Though, if I had written it I would read "God, please grant me the serenity to accept the things I should just leave be; the courage to change the things that need changing; and the knowledge that I'll learn more by getting it wrong than by getting it right - so even when I really mess up I'll have the balls to face another day of challenges."