My problem, I think – at least, my major problem among many; the blocking problem that stands before my ability to see all my other problems – is that I just do not want to think right now. I want to sink into a hot bath or warm bed and lie there half-asleep for the foreseeable future.

I am the first to admit that this is not a healthy way to be; feeling like the fog has closed around me, feeling my visibility reduced to the four feet immediately in front of me, feeling apathetic and listless on all subjects.

Is it seasonal? Is it the result of being so overwhelmed with all my other (really not very tragic) problems? Am I just shutting down rather than getting on with the business of getting on?

I’ve made a sort of a peace with the way my life is right now. It’s got its disappointments and secrets, it has its pleasures and projects, and all in all it has a level of meaning and direction that I can live with.

But something is probably going to change soon. I’ll either get a new job or move someplace new or lose a relationship or keep one or rent the house or sell it or choose a new career. Or grit my teeth and stay put for another eighteen months. But even that option scares me, because I come out the other end of that tunnel, and what then? I have a paid-off house, but I still have to either move/change career/go to school/stockpile money/etc to take the next step. It would just be that I had put off the major life decisions for a while longer.

It all scares the pants off me. And bad as the fear is, at the same time I am thinking that I have to do it just because it scares me. If I keep doing what is comfortable (or at least, not uncomfortable enough to force my move), then I’m going to ride myself forever for taking the easy path rather than a challenging one.

I just don’t want to, say, move to another state and find myself at a dead end after six months.

Ironically, this month’s Sun was all about themes of home. There was a quote from Jessamyn West, “You make what seems a simple choice: choose a man or a job or a neighborhood – and what you have chosen is not a man or a job or a neighborhood, but a life.” This hit home, and did little to make me feel better.

I’ll be a different person somewhere else. The thread of my life will be broken and I’ll have to find new ties and create an entirely new line. Everyone who knows me now who might check in with me in ten years would find that I am not who they had thought I might become. Everyone I’ll know in ten years won’t be able to relate at all to my life today. I would be trading my history away for I don’t know what future.