Writing my life out on the pavement

I’ve decided to start posting what could one day be a book detailing my life into this blog. I’ve gone through so much in my life and I had hoped to turn my experiences into a book that showed others it was possible to be more than what your past dictated for the future. But I honestly didn’t feel like wasting time into making a whole book when I could just share my life with whoever found this blog. So here it goes….

Preface

My husband is playing Rocket League on the computer and my girls are sleeping in our bedroom. I was up watching Still, the movie about Michael J. Fox and Parkinson’s disease, and there was a scene where he said he was “waiting for the bus.” He had just taken some medication to kick in to get his mind back on track. Or something like that. I was stuck on what he had just said and didn’t really pay attention to what was going on.

Have I missed my bus? Is that basically what’s been my life these past 20ish years? I started to feel numb. I wanted to cry. It’s at that moment that I started writing these words. I stopped watching the movie to write what you, the reader, are reading. My husband, now next to me, glancing over and wondering why I had started typing so feverishly into my Google Keep app on my phone.

I basically felt like I had been trapped in this body, in this life, and here I was. Comparing myself to someone who was trapped in their body due to a degenerate, incurable disease. What the fuck. I’m by no means living with an incurable disease. But when you live a life that isn’t yours and you’ve been feeling trapped. Well, you might as well have been in a vegetative state because the life you’ve been living isn’t the life you had ever dreamed of. And no, it’s hasn’t entirely been a shit life, but what a ride it could have been if I had just had that chance.

My husband asked what I’m writing. I lied. I said it was writing up some homework about in-group favoritism for my cognition class that was due the next day. Why did I lie? I just wasn’t ready to tell him that I had finally started writing this.

But here I go.