More thoughts on growing older...

My mid-life crisis continues...

I am seized by a panic that it's now too late to make anything of my life. Yes, I am blessed with wonderful friends, but that is more to their credit than mine. I've built nothing lasting; I have no legacy. Ten years after I'm gone, will anyone notice or care? I don't even have a real job, much less a career. The fact that my state is common enough that there's term for it (DMUPie - downwardly mobile urban professional) doesn't relieve my own feelings of failure.

I guess I always thought I would be something special, that I'd make a lasting mark on the world, but I can't help but think that if it hasn't happened by now, it probably isn't going to happen, Grandma Moses and other late-achievers aside.

I haven't even produced children -- the traditional form of making a mark on the world. *sigh* Not that I ever wanted to be a parent. I'd have been a terrible parent. I'm not even a very good grownup.

I don't want to be young again - Goddess no! I was such an unformed lump... but I also don't want to be *old*, to be victim to the frailties and failures of my body. And I don't want to be old alone, or without having done something that I can look back on and say "yes, that's it, I didn't just take up space in this world."

Depressing thoughts, but hey, it's Friday...