Learning to Stand

I’ve come to a crossroads.

I mean, come on, everyone does.  Over and over, throughout life, until you think that you just want to catch a f*ing break and fly off to Tahiti to be oiled down by a Cabana boy wearing nothing but a banana hammock and a smile.  But I’m to a point now where if I don’t make changes in my life, I’ll never drag myself out of this funk.

I used to be vibrantly happy.  I used to do things for myself – study the Tarot, read an entire book a day, write a blog post just for the hell of it.  I would sit in the grass and watch the clouds float by or scribble a short story simply because I got the urge.  That girl cared about making herself happy.

Now, this girl is running a business.  She’s formatting for some pretty amazing clients, but it’s adding up to about 35 hours a week.  On top of her 40 hour a week job.  And don’t get her started on the job — she’s been unhappy there for a very, very long time now for a laundry list of reasons that she isn’t going to go into because she probably shouldn’t.  In public.  She’s published books (and holy hello, is that AWESOME), but those books are just listlessly sliding off the virtual shelves like ice cream in December and suddenly success seems…impossible. Happiness seems like a mythological creature.

She’s floating in some kind of dark abyss where she can’t force herself to care about anything.  There is a vacuum beneath her, steadily pulling her into a Mariana Trench of despair.  Maybe there will be cool fishes, but on the other hand, she can’t even muster the energy to believe that cool fishes exist.  They exist for other people, but for this girl, it’s just…empty.

I don’t like this girl that I’ve become.  This girl who puts everything else before her own happiness and well-being.  This girl who is so stressed that she’s put on ten pounds since Christmas.  This girl who has spent the past three weeks crying herself to sleep and reaching a depth of unhappiness she hasn’t known since Cory died.

This is who I am.  I am no more, no less than the woman that I AM and WILL BE.  I make no apologies for it, but I embrace the fact that I’m not alone.  I’m not going to surround myself by a bubble and pretend I’m happy, slowly dying inside while the smile on my face makes my muscles tense and angry.  Because that’s not healthy.  Women the world over have these feelings, and so do writers.  Double whammy here.

But I AM going to do something about it.

I want to be the girl that I was when I backpacked Ireland.   She had a dream to see Ireland, and she made it a reality.  It was the single most amazing month of her life and she’d give ANYTHING to get it back.

That girl believed that ANYTHING could happen.

This girl is hopeless that any of her dreams can come true.

It’s time to grab life by the balls and take care of myself first.  Big changes are happening in my world, and they’re coming straight from my heart.

***

This growing season

May I be reborn

Washed clean

Made new

Forgiven

& spectacularly loved.

Remind me who I am.

Forgive me my shadows.

Heal my broken wings

that I may fly

and succeed.

by Marianne Williamson (slightly modified)