Now that I have spent far too long trying to insert this image into my post, I have nearly forgotten what is was I wanted to say. First of all, raison d’être simply means, reason for being, in French. The age-old question, why do I exist?….usually a question resolved in one’s youth, sometimes proves to be a bigger problem for certain people than others. I would have never believed that at the quite ripe (nearly falling off the tree) age of 44, 45 in July, that I would have at least resolved this existential dilemma. Really I feel like the world’s biggest asshole because I think other people have it so much worse than I do and that they for some reason surpass this disagreement. They (the other lucky people, the homeless, the hungry, the waitresses for life at Denny’s, the obese, the not too smart, the unloved, those never chosen for the team, never noticed at all, never wanted in any way) do not seem to even ask themselves why they are, for what reason they exist. They just do it.
I, on the other hand, chosen by some evil Existential God …I have been chosen to never actually move forward in any way. I just flounder in an ocean of self-doubt. I realize that this is incredibly selfish because I am neither homeless nor hungry, because people usually like me, because I have benefited for my whole life from not being ugly, because I am not illiterate, of course because I have people who love me and would happily give me a glass of wine or a bed to sleep in if I needed one. None the less, I would like to have a good feeling about something and be right. I am sick of always being afraid of my own happiness. I am so tired of doubting that some odd occurrence will really make me feel like I have a valid raison d’être.
I think I have forgotten where I wanted to go with this, but I feel better now that I stepped out for a blogging minute.