In the past few months I have had conversations with Zeppo regarding my “age”. I don’t feel my age in several ways. In a lot of ways I feel so much older. Like I have been wizened beyond my years. That I have gained access to knowledge that most people get much later in life. I have seen more, heard more, and done more than a woman of my age should ever have to do.
It is hard for me to connect to my peers in a lot of ways. While I sit back and watch them talk about things that I no longer have concern about I wonder if I am loosing the ability to connect. Or is it just that I don’t feel like connecting on a superficial level anymore? I don’t want to talk about the junk food part of life, celebrity gossip, latest fashion trends, family gossip, etc. I also don’t want loose connections to people.
But then there is the other side of me who secretly follows the latest fashion trends, and cruses Huffington Post for the latest in entertainment news. I have even been caught watching TMZ, or Inside Edition on occasion. I think this part of me is the part who just wants to regress, and be immature, and to feed my brain junk so I don’t have to think.
So how old am I? My body feels relatively my age (it is a bit under stress as I am now 28+ weeks pregnant,). But all in all I don’t feel that old. My conscious and subconscious feel like they are 100 years old. Perhaps if I were to ask Freud he would say that my Id is still young, and my Ego, and Super-ego have aged.
I wonder if I will ever feel like I am working as a whole again.
I read my blog post from 2012, and man did I have a lot going on for my last birthday! I was exhausted, and caring for Zoë who was still in rather bad shape. Perhaps that is why this year I did nothing. I watched television, and crocheted my birthday away. It was almost as if I were exhausted from reading what I went through last year. So much so that it took me two days to think about how I felt about this year’s birthday in relation to last year.
Zeppo and I have been doing a lot of nothing these past few months. I feel like I am still in recovery. Like I cannot get enough down time. Perhaps some of it is because I know the calm before the storm of having a new born, and I am trying to suck in as much leisure before our little one arrives? But I don’t think that is it at all. I think that my Id, and Ego, and Super-ego, my body, and soul are all in recovery and physical therapy.
This year’s birthday although relaxing, and good was still lonely, because rather than caring for Zoë I could only watch as her pictures scrolled on the computer’s screen saver. Like most days I felt like something was missing.
My daughter has been amputated from my life, and my body and mind still feel her.
So here I am 33. Feeling very old, and very young, and looking forward to what this year will bring.