The Old Believe Everything

The middle aged suspect everything
The young know everything.
(Oscar Wilde)


I hate July. I hate July because my birthday is in July and I hate my birthday. It is nothing more than the biggest day of there year where I end up realizing just how unimportant and forgettable I am to the people in my life. A day that is and has been and likely always will be a day full of disappointment and rejection, instead of happiness and a sense of being special.

It does not matter how hard I try to fight it, or how positive I try to be, a shadow always manages to find its way to cast me in darkness and this time it is not lifting like it usually does after my birthday has passed.

For a couple weeks now I have been trying to figure out if actually coming back to school was a good thing or me being an idiotic fool. In the past three years I have managed to piece back together my life after it was shattered, get a job where I was making decent enough money that I was thinking about buying a house and then after working so hard to get my life into a good place I decided to throw that all up in the air to go back to school. I just do not know if that was a smart move, or maybe I am just caught up in my own self doubt. The last time I was at school I ended up losing faith in myself and in my ability to do anything I put my mind too. That is one thing I have never got back, not completely and I have a hard time believing that I will ever get it back.