in the nuthouse

I see people I know who are smart and bright, talented and successful. Some are in healthy, supportive, loving relationships. Two play in orchestras, some play in bands. Several have PhDs, others are raising well-adjusted children. Some are directors, in positions of authority and responsibility, making important decisions every day; some run their own companies. Several have battled a terrible tragedy and won. I know published authors, people who have run marathons, people who raise money for charity on a regular basis, people who speak a multitude of languages, people who volunteer and travel and have more friends than I could ever dream of.

And then there are my parents who are good, kind people who care for each other and for us and deal with so much without complaint.

And I wonder where I fit in. I wonder if I fit in at all.

And I realise I don’t.


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