Wednesday, October 20, 2010

A Good Enough Place to Start

I haven’t felt the urge to blog lately…or document my life at all, really. I used to journal in some form nearly every day – I’m not sure where my motivation went.

Actually, I seem to have stopped doing a lot of things: reading books, writing, taking/editing/printing pictures, going to Target, talking on the phone, painting, travelling, reading blogs, laundry…

Some of those things have been replaced – I read more magazines instead of books, I knit instead of paint…Not very many.

I’m not really sure where my time goes, my energy, my drive…

Working again obviously plays a big part. I have a very annoying commute that wastes at least 2 hours of my day. Since there’s not much around here or a break room, I don’t take a lunch break. After staring at work stuff on my computer all day, I’m not especially excited to edit photos or keep up on blogs or anything like that.

My essentially non-existent social life is also an issue. I haven’t been spending a ton of time with any of my friends or family and haven’t really bonded with any of my co-workers.

I probably sound pretty pathetic and/or depressed. I don’t think I’m either…I do feel very overwhelmed. I think I lost my momentum somewhere in the past couple years. I have so much I have to do, should do, want to do – but as soon as I start thinking of all those things, I get a feeling that is all too familiar to me, a feeling I’ve always struggled with:

I feel like I’m falling down a hole – like a ravine or a canyon. Every so often, I am able to find my footing or get a good grasp on a branch. I make a little progress, feel a little more hopeful, get stronger and more confident.

Eventually, though, the branch breaks or the ground crumbles and I start to slip again. Sometimes I just trip a little – I find something to hold on to, to support me, and I regain my balance and move on. Other times, I go tumbling down with everything I try to catch slipping out of reach or collapsing along with me, adding to the pain I feel when I finally get to steady ground.

Beaten and exhausted, I want to give up. I want to sleep until I forget; or, wake up and realize it was all a dream. I want a rescue team to swoop in and save me. I want to learn to be ok with where I am, to just settle for what I have. I wallow in self-pity and allow it to paralyze me.

Inevitably, I do wake up and accept that there is no rescue team. I have to admit that I hate being stuck. I hate settling. I know I don’t want to be at the bottom, always looking up – and what’s worse is that I know I don’t have to be. I realize I hate myself.

But where do I start? Despite what the Von Trapp family may have lead us to believe, “the very beginning,” while definitely a very good place to start, is not always clear. So, I think, I make plans, I write lists, I assure myself I’ll figure it all out tomorrow…

And that brings me to today, I guess. I don’t feel like this is a very good ending and I think I should say something literal and positive, but if I don’t post this now, I’ll have one more thing to add to my never ending lists – and I promised Other Amy an update – so just know that I still exist and will try to have a more exciting life to blog about.


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