Three weeks ago, my life fell apart. After yet one more wish that didn’t come true, it all came crashing down. Like Humpty Dumpty cracked wide open, I saw painfully clearly all the ways I’d been living that were keeping me unhappy: doubting myself, clutching to specific outcomes, and measuring my worth by achievement – society’s definition of success. There was no way this egg was putting herself back together again with that.
After bawling my eyes out nonstop and withdrawing from family and friends, I realized I needed therapy, so I headed to the coast, walking for hours along the ocean and through miles of trees.
With the help of Mother Nature and some loving humans too, I’ve reconnected with myself and the world, finding trust again in both.
Am I clearer on where to go from here? No. I’m still a puddle of yolk – exposed, vulnerable, and unformed. But I’m crystal clear on what I’m not going to do. Does my uncertain future feel like a fun adventure on an open road? Not right now. But neither do I view it as a dark, scary drive.
If you asked me how I’m doing now, I’d say, “okay” – which is a really good place to be, considering I just dragged myself out of a pit of despair. I don’t think it’s always realistic or lasting to jump from depression to joy; sometimes, we need to rebuild in smaller, incremental steps. I’m just accepting myself where I am.
As I write this blog, some lyrics keep popping into my head: “It’s the end of my world as I know it, and I feel fine.” While a slight adaptation of the original song, I know just what R.E.M. means.
© 2016 Laurie Gardner
