Defining Moment

"What do you do?".  It seems like an innocuous enough question. And it generally is.  However, for me, it is a loaded question, one which is a scathing judge.

I was prepared to meet this question head on at my reunion.  People are curious and most venture out every morning to some building where they spend the majority of their time and collect a paycheck.  I was never particularly good at spending that much time away from home.  Even when young, I was borderline agoraphobic.  I begged to be rescued from sleep-away camp and I cried myself to sleep the first week of college.  I like familiarity.

For the last seven years I have hidden myself under the cloak of motherhood; I was staying home for my children.  I had no such excuse when we lived in Austin and found myself coming up with snarky responses when posed with the question (I'm a social critic.  I'm the CEO of the Gray Establishment).  With both children now in school, I find myself in a precarious position again.  People judge you, define you by your work.  What if you don't work?

I used to tell people that I would've made a fabulous courtesan, before I realized that the term actually means "high class prostitute" instead of a dilettante.  I can hold a fascinating conversation about Juvenal's Sixteen Satires and can wax poetic on Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Leonard Cohen but I am pretty sure I would have no clue how to function as a cashier at Trader Joe's much less trade stocks during the day at home.

When I was suicidal, my obituary sometimes came to mind.  Macabre, I know.  I wallowed further into depression thinking that the obit would be no more than two lines.  When you're bipolar, you frequently define yourself as either "good" or "bad".   I'm good now... on my meds, seeing my psychiatrist regularly.  Should that be enough?  Have I used my depression as an excuse so that I do not have to try to accomplish more than just healthy?  I read that Madeline Albright didn't go to law school until she was in her fifties.  So why, at 38, do I feel as though I have hit my plateau?  Is being bipolar holding me back or is there a deep seeded fear of failure that I need to confront?  What goal can I set for myself?  Who do I want to be?