Sometimes I wonder what exactly I am trying to do here and if it really matters? I am burning the candle at both ends and am not getting positive gratitude from all this effort, just anger. I feel like it is all a joke sometimes. I have made this a consumption of my life and maybe my priorities are screwed up. I do not want to be a nurse anymore and keep telling myself, one more year.
I recently wrote a blog for the hemorrhage journal where I was shocked at the total number of people in the U.S and the world compared to the amount of views and minimal comments I receive and saw that I am smaller than a speck of sand in this world and that my dreams are even smaller than that. I’m feeling frustrated, like I can never really rest, and if I do my dreams will end.
Then I think, if my dreams end that might not be so bad, but then what will drive me forward? I will always wonder and regret. I find myself already (and for a long time), already regretting time I have let slip away. It is a difficult thing, letting go and dreaming. Seeking and finding a healthy balance where I feel happy again would be fine, it is a simple goal but so hard to figure out.
If I closed it all down, would anyone but just a handful of people even notice? What got me into this rapid pace is my father. He is old, very old and I just wanted to show him the true magnificence of my dreams before he leaves this earth. It is not for me, it never has been or it would have been done a long time ago. Death never affected me personally until my mother died and she will never see my dreams.
I don’t know…