Things Fall Apart to Fall Into Place.
Despite a lot of the radio silence on the blog, I’ve spent a considerable amount of time on here discussing the various ways that my life has been shifting/transitioning/changing during the past couple years. And though change and growth are obviously good things, the feeling that I don’t really have any solid ground to stand on has been challenging. There would be these moments of clarity and feelings of progress, but more often than not, they would be fleeting. And for every “step in the right direction” there were countless detours and setbacks and unexpected reroutes.
When I started my new job in the fall, I remember thinking to myself, “How am I even going to introduce myself to new people? I don’t even know what my defining characteristics are anymore.” I felt like a stranger to myself, unsure of who I was, unable to figure out how to even figure it out.
You always hear how “things will just fall into place” and that always sounds like total bullshit, especially when things are nowhere near in place. The past couple years have basically been a series of different feelings of incompleteness–the constant Feeling That I’m A Walking Car Accident after my separation. The Losing Love Is Like A Window In Your Heart that came from losing the bunnies. The Complete and Total Exposure I felt after I left my job and my last real tie to my “old” life. I Don’t Even Know What Normal Feels Like Anymore became the norm.
I did not begin 2015 with hope, but rather determination: 2013 was hard; 2014 was harder. I’ve become too jaded/cynical to believe that the changing of the calendar year will suddenly mean guaranteed good luck or prosperity, but I felt like the past 2 years have been training for me to Finally Get My Shit Together. And you know what? It’s *actually* been happening. I’ve finally gotten myself into a pretty decent life routine, I’ve trimmed out a lot of the “life fat”–activities that weren’t really making me happy, relationships that weren’t really in my best interest–and I’ve been focusing those energies elsewhere. I’ve been writing more and engaging with more positive/creative people and endeavors, and have been working doggedly towards goals, towards financial freedom, towards healthier/smarter decisions for myself. And you know what? I feel damn good about it. There is a lot more to go, but there has been progress. Tremendous progress. Progress that I’m incredibly proud of. Progress that makes for solid ground to stand on.
When you’re standing directly in the middle of a ShitStorm, it’s hard to believe that you will ever make it out the other side alive. And I know that there is no real “end” or “happy ending”–things will continue to change, and will continue to require me to change with it–but I’m finally starting to understand why all of the unpleasantries of the past couple years were necessary to get me to Here, to get me to be The Person I Am Right Now. And although it’s been hectic and confusing and painful and all those other things, standing on the other end of it, looking at what’s ahead… well, that feels fucking fantastic.
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