Anxiety
I get a little anxious sometimes. Usually it's some kind of general malaise; a gentle undercurrent of danger I'm subtly aware of. It's gotten worse over the past few years, and I'm not sure if it's me getting older or my current situation.
Unlike most of my life, now I have a lot to lose. I have the best-paying job I've ever had. I have a house, a kid, a girlfriend, a good group of friends in this new place.
I generally like to take the Stoic view of, If I got hit by a bus today, would I die content? The looming threat of death, though likely far-off in my future, is a constant motivator for me. And throughout this time on the daily grind I'm living a very comfortable life, yet I'm not content. I want to push my limits daily. I want to take risks with my body, my mind, my career. I want to go into the California wilderness and survive among the uncivilized natural world. I want to truly understand strange (to me) people and their foreign viewpoints, especially if they stand in direct opposition to my own beliefs. I want to be proficient in something I've never done professionally. I want the freedom to make those choices without feeling like I'm missing out on This Beautiful Suburban Life.
But I hold on to this life so tightly. Frightened to let it go, frightened to enter the woods and leave this all behind.
What is the anxiety? Maybe it's just discontent. Maybe it's fear of losing all I have, a stockholm syndrome to my current life. Maybe it's a case of thinking the grass is greener on the other side.
Probably it's a little bit of each.
I can only hope, I guess, to find a reason to change before I've gone so far down this path that I can't go back.