I feel worthless.
My counselor says I’m not worthless. He says that I have intrinsic value just because I am. I don’t have to do anything. I don’t have to be anything.
But tonight I feel worthless. I feel like I don’t matter. That I really do not have any value.
Just a blob.
When I was raising my daughters, I felt like I mattered as their mommie. I home schooled and we were together. Now they’re in college and it’s not the same. Yes, I’m still their mommie and I guess they still need me, but it’s not the same. I don’t have that identity any more.
So I wonder who I am.
My daughters, though, would tell you that I do matter to them, that they love me very much. My younger one came in a few minutes ago to vent. And after she did, she told me she would never leave me. She told me that it would be okay.
I always wanted to be a wife, ever since I can remember. Well, I’m certainly not that. The crazy thing is, I still want to be. I want to be with someone. I want someone to talk with at the end of the day and sleep with at night. I want someone to hang out with and do stuff with. And I want to actually mean something to him, whoever “he” is. I want to be cherished and adored.
And it’s not all one-sided. I want to be able to give, too, and not have it rejected.
I think I’ve told you that my husband gives messages at his church sometimes. That makes me feel so wretched. I don’t even know how to explain it. I feel like dirt, like trash, like scum.
At work, too often I feel like that only my mistakes are noticed. Maybe that’s not fair. I know people at work like me. Maybe it’s just me only seeing my mistakes. But I still end up feeling like a failure.
So often a failure.
Maybe all this is just hormonal. Between “that time of the month” and “that time of life,” and the whole living with a passive aggressive person and my own codependency, I’m pretty much a basket case. I feel like I always struggle all of the time with so much. I feel like I am lost in a strange city where I don’t speak the language.
Maybe some of this is just mid-life stuff – a transition between who I was and who I will be. I wish I knew what I wanted to be “when I grow up.” I really did like staying at home with my daughters. But that is behind me. What’s next? I feel like I am in fog, just going through each day, but not really going anywhere.
And I don’t even know where to go.
Yes, I want to meet somebody. I still want that “happily ever after.” But I think maybe I’ve learned that that can’t be my sole identity.
I have stuff that I do, like my job and the gym and Toastmaster. But I don’t know who I am.
Sometimes, rarely, I can look deep into my heart and see my dreams. But I think I discount them and deny them. And they’re also kind of nebulous. More like random images and feelings than an actually list. Maybe because I feel like I can’t have them. Or maybe because I feel guilty about them.
So often I read about letting go.
Confession: I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know what that looks like. I think it would make everything easier, but how?
Maybe I will feel a little more sane tomorrow.
I hope so.