July Journal

It’s that time of the year…the most dreadful July…when the ordinariness of your life catches up. The list of unfulfilled dreams stares at you along with all the new wrinkles, receding hairline, pouches of fat and the sprout of new tresses in places they shouldn’t be growing. It is the month of internal judgement, how the past year has been no different and the upcoming one brings no hope.

I always see the glass half empty and possibly toxic, not one to believe in silver linings, rarely content, wanting more from this world but not even sure of what is MORE? But I do know what it is not. It is not being where I am physically, mentally and psychologically, wanting to be better but not really knowing if better is a destination or a journey? This is a month of comparisons and all the things I am too old for…youngest one to conquer the world, step on the moon, start a business but much closer to being at risk for terminal illnesses, laid off from work or losing a parent. Safe to say the relationship with my birth month is mostly of hate, annoyance, inadequacy and a sense of loss.

My birthday, I prefer not to make it a big celebration, hate being surprised, dislike the fake fuss but hey don’t ignore the day completely. I still want to eat cake; get something I would never buy for myself and have a simple meal with a shrinking circle of ‘my people’. This year I decided to simplify the ambiguous ‘MORE’, I know where I don’t want to be for my next birthday…at least physically. I don’t want to be in this city or country. Anywhere else will do, I’m not picky about where….just not here. Why you may ask…that’s for another time and a different post but simply because life shouldn’t have to be this difficult. 

But the best and happiest feeling…is actually the day after. A pressure release, another year to defer what more life can offer you, 365 more days of renewed hope that by some miracle, next birthday will be bring a different and better you.