That old saying of life is what happens when you make plans. I think it's the story of my life sometimes. Since my mother's death (two years in January), I've been battling with a lot of issues that have been suppressed most of my life and realizing that I didn't want to end up like her. My mother was extremely unhappy at the end of her life and never took care of herself. I felt like it was my job to do it for her, to protect her, and after she died, I felt such a mixture of guilt and relief.
At the end of August, I turned 35 and I decided that this was my year. I'm sick of settling. I followed my mother's foot steps in the worst way and since her death, I've been slowly trying to change that. But I don't push myself. I think up excuses, allow the negative demon voices in my head to rule the day, convincing me I don't deserve happiness.
And it's not true.
And sometimes I just need to write that down or type it out because I wouldn't wish a what if/regret life on anyone, especially myself.