A part of me I’m not proud of seems to have given up on life a long time ago. It decided that what it needed would never be possible, so it gave up, and settled. I’ve been telling myself that this was new, and that I didn’t used to be this way. This was just a passing phase, a passing, lingering, phase. And then I “phone-checked” myself. Accidentally, but it put some things into perspective. After a long crying sesh with my therapist (who I was driven to call for the first time in over a year)(oh yea, did I mention I don’t cry?), I looked through the notes section of my phone, and I found some things. For instance, there are 3 years worth of notes of things to write about and muse over on my phone, but I never allowed myself to put it in print. I stifled that part of me. More importantly, what I found was that this feeling of lostness, this part of me that I thought had just given up, this feeling I thought was new, it’s not. I seems to date back to January of 2015, at least. And by then it had been around long enough that I was willing to write this, “People always say ‘life happens’. But what happens when your life isn’t happening? What happens when your life is just passing you by and you’re no more than a spectator? What then?”
So when I read that today, it really hit me. I’ve been here before. I’ve been here a long time. I’m whining the same whine I’ve been whining for two and a half years! Sure, there was a moment of sadness for all the time I’ve felt like this, all the time I’ve spent so sad and lonely. And then, something about it made me angry. It made me have to change it. Now. Where was the girl who was strong and determined? The girl who made things happen? The girl who went and got what she wanted? Why wouldn’t I just start doing things? How would I have looked at me saying that if I weren’t me? Truth? If I saw someone else say that, I’d slap them. Holy pity party girl, buck up. Your life a’int that hard.
Ya things didn’t go like you planned. You had a career working with horses. It turned out to be something you didn’t expect, and something you didn’t want anymore. Fine, move on. You still love horses, you have an amazing group of friends and animals because of that. Time to count that as a win. For so long, I’ve let it define me as as a loss, the biggest loss, mistake, and regret of my life. And some of it I do regret, but that all comes after the point where I couldn’t admit it was over, because I couldn’t admit it wasn’t for me and because I was too scared to start over. I was too scared to not have a plan. What was I worried about? What was I hiding from?
And I think I was hiding from fear.
I mean I was sure I’d have it figured out by now. I mean, I’m 27 for God’s sake. I was sure I’d be in a very serious relationship, entirely self supporting. I was sure I’d be set up, secure, settled. I was sure I’d be certain. Reality is different. Reality it that I’m in between jobs, and goals. I’m habitually single, shocking, I know, and my major life decisions right now involve deciding whether my dog needs a dog. Really. I’m not kidding.
Reality is really that I’m just at the beginning of figuring it out. And even though I’ve yet to succeed, I’m trying. I went back to school because I felt like that was the right answer. And I graduated, got certified in a certain specialty of coaching, and instantly, the idea of doing that for a living made me nauseated. But I did something. And it was nice, because for a minute there, it looked like I was moving forward. But I wasn’t really going anywhere. I was just doing what looked right, not what was right for me. I was trying to fit into the box when I really needed to hand that box to my horse and let him destroy it. It’s time to free myself from the ‘norm’. I’m not a 9-5 girl, the four walls and the structure, and the boredom, and the monotony, I just couldn’t. And that’s OK! I want to not hate what I do. I want my priorities to stay the same. I want to create this life, that I’m not sure exists, that I’m not sure it possible, where I’m free and happy and creative and honest.
And then fear creeps back, and I wonder if I’m even good enough to pull off this imaginary life. I won’t even let myself succeed in my wildest dreams! No wonder I’m going nowhere! I can’t win with myself, how can win with the world? I’ve put myself in the box where everything is isolated and it has to stay in it’s place. Ironically, that’s the same mentality I rebel against. I’ve created a losing situation with no way out. I feel confined by the life I’ve created, even though the things that confine it are the only parts I care about. So I end up hating what I love. No wonder I’m so lost. I’ve waged war with myself and I’m definitely losing.
So the next step, is to ask what happens if I open the boxes, and take down the walls. What if I could let all of the different parts of me express themselves? What might they create together? Where might that lead? What do the pieces even add up to? Is my need for control really only about trying to fit the right me into the current situation? And is my anxiety just fear that the wrong me will pop out? What if I stopped always trying to put the correct piece in the correct place? What if I stopped using pieces of myself and became whole? I mean, for someone who doesn’t care what people think, or if they like her, I seem to spend a whole lot of time trying to fit in. I also never feel like I fit in. But, it’s looking more and more like I’m going to have to fit in with me first. And that could take a minute. I wont’t accept a partial submission.
Sorry if this post sounds all kinds of manic or like it was written by 10 different people, it is and it kind of was, but they’re all pieces of me. Might as well use ’em all. At least they’re fighting to come out again. And I think that’s a start.
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