The beginning: July 31, 2019
I sit here in silence, with the stark realization that this, this is the moment I’m meant to write about. For decades I’ve wanted to write “my story,” but I always thought my story was rooted in the past. The truth is, my story starts now, in this moment, because there is only now, and how the past effects the now.
My life has been a constant influx of change for over six years now, and I can tell you one thing – Change is exhausting! There is a reason people burrow into their comfort zones and rigid patterns in life, mindlessly coasting through – it’s just easier that way! Awareness, mindfulness, and all that involves lifting the veil from our eyes is a long exhausting road.
Some days I would give anything to go back. Back to distraction and codependent connection. Back to striving to be the best, and working to prove myself worthy. Back to mindlessly eating, drinking, and living however the mood steered me. Some days I drive to the store, battling the knowledge that any choice I make to “please” myself with food or drink will only leave me regretting my choices. And still, some days I come home with the alcohol and sugary delights. On those days I hate myself from beginning to end, because I’m aware, and I am never wrong about the punishment I will inflict. On those days, I learn and relearn that there is no going back.
Nearly seven years, and here I sit aware in all depths of my senses that my life has cascaded uncontrollably. When it all began I was certain I could and would come out the other side of it, and mindlessly move on. The laundry list of events that changed the course of it all, even recently, is insanity. Yet still, I hear the bitch in my head telling me; “Suck it up. There are others, others who have and will always have it worse. There are people who have lost people in ways you have yet to experience – how dare you be weak.”
Alone with no sound to drown it all out, the clear and ever-present numbness soiled in fear and shame. Covered in bruises, unintentionally inflicted by repeated patterns of broken promises and angry deflection. I think the mind gives up at a point. The mind of a fixer who can’t fix is a mind lost for answers. When you do everything you think you’re supposed to do, and only the good in life changes, then what? When you follow all the rules, give it all to God, the universe or whoever else wants to hold your struggles in their hands, and life still keeps pummeling you as you tumble through the desert, then what?
I saw the desert clearly in the shower today. The shower, that’s where I do my best thinking. Clear as day, the desert laid out before me as a reminder that I am no longer in the wilderness, oh no. I am smack dab in the middle of the desert! How the hell did I end up here? I was mastering the wilderness, but the wilderness has a way of enveloping you in its beauty. Maybe that’s how I ended up here…
I feel it, the isolation and the disconnect; the numbness and confusion – it’s debilitating. The weight of the elements and the sudden change of scenery has drained me. I wasn’t prepared; I have no previsions. My mind goes crazy digging through the files of wisdom and knowledge – “you know what to do, just do it – do what you know!” Buzzing and buzzing, I feel the energy of my mind needing to fix and accomplish, and my body says “NO!”
Some days I finally make myself cut my nails, and shave my legs, but most days it’s a fight. I sit in the desert fully aware that one needs to groom, I’ve done it for decades, and yet I can’t be bothered. How the hell did I get here? Some days I make myself get a haircut and an eyebrow wax, but most days I can’t be bothered. Some days I put myself first, but honestly, the last time was so long ago, I can’t remember when. Some days are just more difficult than others.