This is me, with all my flaws. I will be 49 in two weeks. It’s hitting me hard for some reason. Surprisingly enough, my age does not stop men, and some women, from flirting with me. I simultaneously like the attention, and hate it as well.
I don’t care about the men paying attention to me, but I really wish I could get a decent female’s attention. Men are easy. Women are picky.
I’ve been fighting depression for the last several months. It usually lightens up when spring hits, but not this year. It seems that part of the depression comes from men hitting on me. it gets old being offered something I can’t have. Well, I could have it if I was single, but I’m not.
It feels strange to be reacting so harshly to this upcoming birthday. They normally don’t bother me. But this will be my last year in my 40s. I haven’t accomplished much of anything in my life. At least not things that can be measured.
I don’t have a job. I couldn’t have kids. I do have a wonderful husband, and I have other people who love me as well. I have helped people I’ve never met. I’ve been told that talking to me is better than therapy.
I helped a friend learn to deal with his social anxiety a little bit better. I gave a man with a bisexual wife advice on how to get her to accept herself, and explore (that is a post I need to write sometime). I talked to a young woman two different times, and saved her from harming herself.
Anyway, I’m going to be entering my last year in my 40s. That’s scary. There is something about the ending in zero birthdays that just seem so BIG. I haven’t accomplished anything in my life that would make me a “success” but I’m still here for some reason. Maybe I am just here to assist other people. So as long as I’m here, that’s what I’ll do