Some days, it's really hard to want to do the things I am supposed to want to do. Today seems to be one of those days. I have a nice life. I have two jobs that pay well, I have a cute house, I have a husband whose company I enjoy, cars that are reliable, toys to keep me occupied, etc. I'm supposed to feel gratitude that I have been so blessed. I'm supposed to be happy. Why can't I just be happy?
What I feel is empty. I don't have much purpose in life. I work, so the stockholders in my companies can get rich. I work so that my husband doesn't have to have a day job. It's not that I want him to have to get a day job--why should we both be miserable?--it's just that this doesn't feel like enough anymore. We don't have kids, we don't have family we are close to, and though he has friends, I don't really feel that I do. There are people I still have contact with from college, and I feel very strongly for them, but if I wanted to have a girls' night out here in the town where I live, there would be no one to go with. I don't think I could even pull together a Tupperware party. I have coworkers, not friends. You can't go out with coworkers and socialize, because the only thing you have in common is the office, and anything you do or say will show up there later--something I learned several years ago when one of the coworkers I did consider a friend got fired for something she said while out socializing off the clock.
I don't see my way out of this box right now. I don't believe things will ever be different. I want to feel empowered to fix this and find meaning, but other people's choices keep curtailing mine. I let it happen, because disappointing others is my kryptonite. I can't do it. I feel awful doing it. So I keep myself in this nice little trap I've laid for myself, sick of my own whining, trying to figure out what things I can do to find pleasure in my days. It's been a long time since I found much.