It’s been a long while since I’ve written. In this time, I have done cross country moves, whole continent moves, dyed my hair more times then I should, invested in bright red glasses ( I feel like the coolest kid in school), and had a emotional breakdown, of which I am still going through.
Emotional breakdowns are scary. It’s like being on a crappy, plastic life raft attached to a dock, and without warning the rope frays, and you are carried out to sea. Then it turns into night, and just for more fun, every single bad emotion is on that shitty life raft with you. And you are alone. Completely, utterly, terrifyingly alone.
When I am dealing with emotional heartaches, the worst thing I can feel alone. When I relive all those times I was let down, or shamed, or devastated, all I want is for someone to hug me, pass you a pint of some kick-ass ben and jerry’s ( obviously phish food) and try and ride it out. But eventually, when it comes to the big stuff, I have to learn to attack it from within. Alone.
And that is what I am trying to do. That isn’t to say that I am removing myself from human society on an island somewhere. I think that would be counter productive, although honestly pretty awesome for a few days. I like to think I would become super ms.skilled at living in the wild, and would know how to weave baskets from leaves, and fish with my bare hands, and build a hut from bamboo and mud. In reality, I would probably just sleep a lot in the sun, and spend my time frantically avoiding snakes. I HATE SNAKES.
Learning to deal with my mess on your own means that you stop relying on the outside to fix you. You can only ask so much from others, from the world. But the real hard work, the inner peace and love, thats all internal work, and therefore the scariest. After months of sadness, I realized why they print cliches in horrible font on pictures of a sunset, or a horse. These cliches actually mean something. Learning to love yourself is one of my biggest challenges in life. For those of you who didn’t have it easy, who struggle with this as well, I send you an e-hug and my support. Because if you do struggle with this, it’s Hard. Actually not just Hard, but HARD. It affects everything about you, and plays tricks with your head in ways you didn’t even know were possible.
So now I have reached a place where there is nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide. The only thing I can do is find that lone oar tucked into my life raft, and begin the slow process of coming back to shore. It will be hard, painful, lonely, and raw. I will want to give up, and I will want to quit. But I won’t, because there is always a tiny spark inside, pushing me just to go a bit farther.
That is where I am, I don’t know where I am going, but I hope it will be good. Painful, because I can only grow from pain, but good. Preferably to a place with lots of Ben and Jerry’s, and my red glasses. And a ladle, because only amateurs use a spoon.