This week I'm turning 37. That is a seriously scary number when I see it typed on the screen. Even worse when I choke on it during my outbursts of encouragement that everyone should celebrate my birthday with me. And when I say celebrate, I mean throw caution to the wind and party like it's 1999 for the entire month of August. I don't know when my 25th became my 37th.
Anyways, as I sit here on the eve of my birthday month, and 7 weeks away from my second divorce, I'm starting to get a bit retrospective about my life. It's probably a bit morbid, but I've been preoccupied with the idea that what if no one knows? What if I die and no one knows me?
You see, after two unsuccessful marriages, no children and a lot of shifting life around the world, I've been feeling a bit like I'm floating and not quite attached to anything. Sometimes I feel as though I've been a bit disconnected, and that there's no one that has the full story... and if I die, then that's it, there's no one to tell that story as proof of my life.
It's probably a bit tragic to be having such depressing 'what if' thoughts, but I cant help it. I'm completely neurotic, am not much of an online shopper and have never played Candy Crush - so I spend way too much time thinking about things. Things like, what if that dream man that will listen to my endless rambling of really boring stories and terribly lame dad jokes and actually love me for it, never comes along. What if I never get to share my life stories and secrets with anyone and my story just dies when I die. What if I never get to tell my kids 'in my day'.
I wouldn't say it's been stressing me out, but the thought definitely gives me a bit of a hollow ache.
So I decided, before I kill many more brain cells due to excessive consumption of Shiraz, to try and capture things with a blog. Then it doesn't matter if no one reads it, but I get the comfort of knowing - if I die, and anyone wants to, maybe they can learn about me and my life.
So here is my long boring story.