the complexities of "normal"
23 in. (h) x 21 in. (w) x 7 in. (d)
There is an insatiable desire to measure up while at the same time continually compare myself to others. Am I the best at work? Even as I move ahead like a robot following the rules, I feel the inadequacy of my efforts. Shall I grow? Maybe I'll find my love and create a family. What am I attached to? Does my life hold the space for all of my relationships? Why don't I feel like myself? Am I desirable? Do I have cancer? Why am I overcome by such a feeling of emptiness? My heart is broken? Do I have a heart? Do I measure up?