Antsy
What the hell do I want?
I want more…something. Adventure? Intimacy? Vacation time? Creative spark? Chocolate?
My coach likes to remind me that when things get easy, I tend to perceive them as boring, rather than stable.
My relationship isn’t easy, but we’re making progress.
Work isn’t easy, but I’ve learned how to let a whole lot of the crazy shit go.
I’m antsy, though.
I’m also about to turn 40, so maybe I’m just going through one of those midlife crisis things, which is so fucking cliche´ that it makes my teeth hurt.
But really, REALLY. What the hell DO I want?
If I think about where I am right now…
I’m married. We have a nice house (two, if you want to get technical about it). We both have stable and well-paying jobs. Our family is mostly healthy (although please g-d help us figure out what’s up with my son’s chronic stomach pain).
We aren’t wanting for much, except for that aforementioned vacation.
And yet, because there’s always a yet.
I AM wanting. Although maybe that’s not even the right word. It’s more primal than that. It’s more like longing.
There are empty pockets in my seemingly well-off life that nothing practical or logical has been able to fill.
I long for some of my wants: adventure, intimacy, creative spark.
I feel their absence in my throat, my stomach, and my heart.
My longings are also some of the things I’m most afraid of pursuing, because doing so might mean giving up something else. Or hurting someone else. Or admitting that what I have right now isn’t enough, which makes me feel so damn guilty and self-centered and just horrible in general.
So instead of accepting my longings, or even talking about them anywhere but this blog, I am antsy.
I think that antsiness is the bottled-up energy of keeping these longings in check. They’re like well-oiled popcorn kernels in a pot on the stove, their pace of eruption getting faster and faster, hotter and hotter…but with the lid tightly shut.
I’m trying my damndest to keep that lid locked firmly in place, trying to prevent the astounding mess it would make if things boil over. But the steam and the pressure are bound to bust through at some point.
I am not ready.
I am so ready.
Also, there is no such thing as ready.