Content? Surely not. NO!
Unable to sleep, it occurred to me that I have not given this journal an entry with actual content in.... I don't know...a while.
It is not a lack of things to say which keeps this journal devoid of intelligent matter. I have plenty of things to say on any number of subjects, as life has become a frenzy of sporadic events, all of which involve me or my participation therein, but none of which I can say are MY events. I'm trying to teach myself patience and calm, a task which, as anyone who knows me more intimately that the internet allows will tell you, is a challenge that in my 27 years of life I have lost more often than I have won. I seem unable to maintain my own personal level of zen. I can achieve it from time to time, but it is about as hard to hold onto as an eel in a Vaseline factory. (Yeah...I just made that one up...) If I manage to bring peace to my own life, there will inevitably be an eruption in an event of the life of someone whose life is entangled with mine. An eruption which will touch my peace and usually knock it back off the wagon.
The only turmoil in my existence which, while influenced by others, has nothing to do with anyone but myself, is the frenzy of getting older. As I crawl ever-closer to 30 I realize a lot of the things I wanted to have in my life by this point are still unattainable as of yet. I am not where I had hoped to be. I find the need to settle into permanence claws at me with more fervor than it once did, and it is becoming increasingly harder to ignore. The need to pull something together and make life linear; to have a plan and a future.
And the biological clock.... A subject which the boyfriend wants to hear nothing of, but a subject which nags me with even greater intensity than the need to settle, not just to meet my emotional and mental needs, but because I, unlike those gifted with a Y chromosome, have a fairly well defined time limit to fill. And my time is drawing ever nearer to close. I wanted a child before 30. And I want all that I'm going to have before 35. I have just a touch over 7 years to achieve things which may take more than that amount of time to achieve.
And before anyone can try to feed me the, you CAN have children after 35 you know, line, understand that I am aware of that. But, I am also aware of the risks of having children after 35; not the risks on my health, but the risks for my children. Most people would roll their eyes and say the odds are still in favor of my child being healthy. Most of those who would say that, do not work with the population I do. Most do not see the data, and they don't read the case files. They don't see the alarming trends, and most don't face the end results of playing with percentages day in and day out as I do. The risks of chromosomal problems increase rapidly after 30 (the risk of having a baby with Down Syndrome more than doubles between the ages 30 and 35!), as do the risks of premature birth, stillbirth, miscarriage, preeclampsia, and maternal death. And the chances of having a baby with some degree of Mental Retardation increase frighteningly after 35.
The point of all of this, I guess, is that I'm at a weird point in my life. A transitional phase, I suppose. The problem is that I don't know where I am transitioning to. Life has to move, even if I have to force it, but, at this stage, I can't do anything more than blindly push it along. I am trying desperately to keep life moving. I have no desire to sit and stagnate.
It is not a lack of things to say which keeps this journal devoid of intelligent matter. I have plenty of things to say on any number of subjects, as life has become a frenzy of sporadic events, all of which involve me or my participation therein, but none of which I can say are MY events. I'm trying to teach myself patience and calm, a task which, as anyone who knows me more intimately that the internet allows will tell you, is a challenge that in my 27 years of life I have lost more often than I have won. I seem unable to maintain my own personal level of zen. I can achieve it from time to time, but it is about as hard to hold onto as an eel in a Vaseline factory. (Yeah...I just made that one up...) If I manage to bring peace to my own life, there will inevitably be an eruption in an event of the life of someone whose life is entangled with mine. An eruption which will touch my peace and usually knock it back off the wagon.
The only turmoil in my existence which, while influenced by others, has nothing to do with anyone but myself, is the frenzy of getting older. As I crawl ever-closer to 30 I realize a lot of the things I wanted to have in my life by this point are still unattainable as of yet. I am not where I had hoped to be. I find the need to settle into permanence claws at me with more fervor than it once did, and it is becoming increasingly harder to ignore. The need to pull something together and make life linear; to have a plan and a future.
And the biological clock.... A subject which the boyfriend wants to hear nothing of, but a subject which nags me with even greater intensity than the need to settle, not just to meet my emotional and mental needs, but because I, unlike those gifted with a Y chromosome, have a fairly well defined time limit to fill. And my time is drawing ever nearer to close. I wanted a child before 30. And I want all that I'm going to have before 35. I have just a touch over 7 years to achieve things which may take more than that amount of time to achieve.
And before anyone can try to feed me the, you CAN have children after 35 you know, line, understand that I am aware of that. But, I am also aware of the risks of having children after 35; not the risks on my health, but the risks for my children. Most people would roll their eyes and say the odds are still in favor of my child being healthy. Most of those who would say that, do not work with the population I do. Most do not see the data, and they don't read the case files. They don't see the alarming trends, and most don't face the end results of playing with percentages day in and day out as I do. The risks of chromosomal problems increase rapidly after 30 (the risk of having a baby with Down Syndrome more than doubles between the ages 30 and 35!), as do the risks of premature birth, stillbirth, miscarriage, preeclampsia, and maternal death. And the chances of having a baby with some degree of Mental Retardation increase frighteningly after 35.
The point of all of this, I guess, is that I'm at a weird point in my life. A transitional phase, I suppose. The problem is that I don't know where I am transitioning to. Life has to move, even if I have to force it, but, at this stage, I can't do anything more than blindly push it along. I am trying desperately to keep life moving. I have no desire to sit and stagnate.