Lately, I’ve been feeling the weight of midlife hit me harder than I ever expected. It’s as if everything that was once manageable has started to unravel all at once. Between a demanding job that feels more draining than rewarding, my declining health, and the responsibility of caring for my aging parents, even the smallest things are beginning to feel like heavy burdens.
This year marks a big change in my family—my eldest son is leaving for college. While I’m immensely proud of him, I can’t help but feel the sting of sudden loneliness. The house feels quieter, emptier. At the same time, I’m battling feelings of guilt, as if by focusing on this transition, I’m neglecting my youngest son. It’s a delicate emotional balancing act that leaves me questioning myself daily.
And then there’s my health. Starting at the end of last year, I’ve found myself visiting the medical center far too often. Frozen shoulder, burn injury, anemia, cysts, influenza, infections—you name it.. I never imagined I’d be spending so much time in hospital at this stage in my life.
Work has become almost unbearable. Maybe it’s the job itself, maybe it’s the boss, or perhaps it’s the toxic office politics. Some days, I dread the thought of walking through those office doors. It’s exhausting trying to figure out what exactly is making me feel this way, but all I know is that it’s draining every ounce of energy I have left.
As for friendships, I’ve always been the type to have a close-knit circle rather than a crowd of acquaintances. Family has always come first for me. Yet lately, I’ve found myself yearning for more friends, more connections, and I don’t understand why. It’s unsettling to suddenly crave something I’ve never really needed before.
Hobbies that once brought me joy now lose it's spark. I used to love shopping, collecting handmade leather handbags—not necessarily well-known designers, but artisanal quality leather pieces are what I go for. Now, I catch myself thinking, “Why buy more? What happens to them if I die?” Why am I thinking so much about death at this stage of life? And I’ve lost interest in reading novels, something that used to transport me to different worlds.
I even tried taking an online Japanese class earlier this year, but I gave up after two months. Maybe it was the teacher’s strict approach, maybe it's the timing, or maybe it’s just me—easily losing interest in things that once seemed exciting.
Nothing really excites me anymore. Except maybe traveling out of the country. But with my sons' different schedules and the demands of my job, planning a trip has become more complicated than ever. It feels like everything that used to bring me joy is slipping through my fingers.
Regret has become a frequent visitor in my mind. I find myself constantly questioning the choices I made in life, wondering “what if” and “why me”. I know I’m blessed with a loving husband, wonderful kids, supportive sisters, and even relatively good health. I don’t have the typical health issues people my age often face—no diabetes, high blood pressure, or cholesterol problems. And sure, the occasional medical visit is a hassle, but I’m fortunate enough that I don’t have to worry about the cost.
Yet despite all these blessings, I still feel this heavy cloud of confusion and guilt hanging over me. Why do I feel this way when I have so much to be grateful for?
I don’t know where these feelings are coming from, but I’m hopeful that this phase of life will pass soonest. Until then, I’m holding on, making sure everything seems as normal as it can be.
Even my plant in the office looks sad.
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