Sometimes it IS too late.
What a discouraging realization. The older I get, the more acutely aware I become that life is passing me by - and I'm letting it.
I'm starting to rack up a list of dreams that are just never going to happen. Things I'll never get to do or see or experience. The depression that is bringing on is crippling and I try to keep it at bay. I try to remember the here and now - this moment right now - and appreciate it for what it is. Appreciate that I have air in my lungs, a beating heart, a home, a child, people who love me.
But...the anxiety I feel about time passing is extremely overwhelming. About all that I'm missing. About how my life is such a disappointment to me and how I let it get to such a bad place.
So much of it's on me. Squarely on my shoulders. The weight of my failure is knee-buckling.
