Entry 1

I guess I never really thought that at the age of twenty I would have lived all the life I could for myself, and that already I would have to live life for someone else. I don’t mean that in a selfish sense, I just mean that before now I only had to take care of myself, worry about how I was doing in school, figure out the grocery list I would need for the week, etc. But now it’s no longer just me. It’s my husband, and also the baby that is still residing in my belly, and when I shop it’s no longer money that I can spend and not feel guilty about, it’s our family’s.
I was just getting used to being in college, and now life has completely changed… again. I don’t feel like I’m ready to let go of the plans I had made for myself- plans like studying abroad for a semester, traveling, finishing my last two years of college at the university of my dreams, or just even taking time to really date someone. Before I knew it I was married. The window was so small, that time where it was just me, I had about a year and a half of not being under my parents and being out by myself in the world, and I will never again have that opportunity.
I have been told to not have regrets, but it’s hard when looking back on life I continuously see instances in which I didn’t enjoy the time of life I was in. I guess I am doing that now, not fully enjoying this time of life- a time where the first child I will have is still in my belly and not out in the world yet.
I am so not ready for this. I know everyone says that, and that everyone says you will never be able to fully be ready for having children, but I’m really not. I haven’t even figured out what I want to do with my life. I thought for the longest time that I wanted to be a writer, and I still would love to be, but it’s hard to write imaginatively anymore. It was easy for me to make up stories and create characters when there seemed to be a vast field of opportunities before me. It was fine for me to have childish thoughts, and put fantasies to paper, but now I can’t. I can’t fantasize about what my love life will be like, who I will date, who will marry me, etc, because I’m already married. I can’t dream about going off and doing things like traveling the world by myself, or living in foreign places with some of my friends, because now I have a family. I can’t daydream for myself anymore- any daydreams I have involve the baby incubating in my stomach.
It took me so long to be able to dream for myself, to really push beyond the walls of my mind that told me I would never be able to do anything for myself, and begin to make plans that were my own. I guess there was a reason it was so hard for me, I guess in reality I’m not supposed to make plans of my own, or live for myself. But it’s hard not to want that. It’s really, really hard.
I find myself wishing that I had had more time to think about things this summer before making decisions. But then I wouldn’t be where I am, and is that really, truly what I would want? I feel guilty all of the time. Guilty that my husband is having to work full time instead of finish college, guilty that I’m really not working and so he’s paying for everything, guilty that single handedly crushed all of my family’s dreams for me. I feel overwhelmed, I just want to do something for myself, but it’s like I can’t even get time to myself because I need to be working for my dad, or I need to be with my husband. And when I am alone I just feel depressed because I have nothing to do, no dream that I’m trying to accomplish. I have to dream again, to create something new that I can put my heart into once more. I wish it was writing, but even now I’m struggling just putting thought onto page, so maybe this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing. I need to find something that I’m passionate about, the problem is I can’t think of anything that I am passionate about anymore. I used to love reading, but now I can hardly even look at books, they don’t give me that feeling of adventure anymore.
It used to be that holding a book in my hand made me feel powerful- like I could be any character within its pages, travel to any land, experience any wonder, taste any world. But now my imagination has died, or at least fallen into a coma.
Have you ever noticed that the fairy-tales end with “And they all lived happily ever after?” After the wedding the dreaming stops, because the dream has come true. And have you ever realized that the sequels to all the Disney fairy-tale movies aren’t near as good as the originals? Ever thought to yourself that the people who wrote the sequel story lines had no imagination? Well, it’s probably true, they probably don’t, because it’s hard to push the imagination to dream again. How do you create a dream after a dream has been fulfilled?
I’m going off and I can barely follow myself, so I’m going to end this here. Forgive me for publishing this, but I’m going to attempt to start writing again, and so I need to push myself. Hopefully this will be the worst posting I ever give.