Planning isn't my strong suit. Not because I'm not smart or logical enough. Not because I'm not a process person, but mostly because thinking more than a week out stresses the ever loving crap out of me. I don't know why. I mean. I do. Chemically I'm depressed and suffer from anxiety so stress is going to be a thing that happens. This year has been amazing from the get go. I've been able to get closer to my friends and family than I think I ever expected to. I've been able to gain a platform that helps my writing gain visibility. But I never thought I'd see the age of 30 let alone 31. Not because I have any fatal disease, but... well, frankly... I think I always anticipated I would have killed myself by now. For some reason being in the shadow of my 31 birthday, and still here, stresses me out.
I never claimed anything about the mental health issues I find myself facing was logical. I mean, I can sit here and know that my life is pretty darned awesome. I am employed full time. I have benefits. I get paid pretty well for what I'm doing. I have a regular schedule that I can plan around. I'm able to celebrate my nieces and nephews and all their accomplishments. I'm able to hug my parents, my brothers, my friends, my family. I have a roof over my head. I have a car. I have money to put gas in said car. I have food. I have potable water. I don't have bombs exploding around me. I don't have guns pointed in my face, or at my friends. I don't have a government, that even when I disagree with the actions they take, is going to have me disappeared or killed.
I'm not asking for a million bucks (although if someone wants to throw that my way I wouldn't be heartbroken). Even if I were to find a string-free, magic way to make a million dollars so I could pay off my student loans, buy houses for all my friends and family, ensure that my nieces and nephews would never have to worry about crippling student loan debt, or a way to make sure my parents aren't working until they're 90 -- I'd still work. I don't do idle well.
I have all the things that prove I live in the very privileged first world. Finding myself here, I have to wonder. Why isn't it enough?
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