Hi guys,
It's been a while. Okay, it's been two years, but who's counting? Two incredibly challenging, eventful, and enriching years. I quit my job and started another. I moved (again). I started an Ashtanga yoga practice in earnest, after many years of dabbling. I met my best friend and the love of my life, whom I continue to love more and more each passing day. I began to recover from my eating disorder, after finally finding a therapist who understood me.
Underlying all these changes, though, has been a constant unrest, a desire for something more. I suspect I'm not alone in this yearning for fulfillment, but I'll admit that it's been a challenge to stay afloat. Who am I and what am I doing with my life?
I was recently thinking about the fact that so far, my life has been bound by extremes. Studying late into the night to be at the top of my graduating class; eating the least amount of food I can; stuffing myself until I'm immobile; exercising every day, even if I'm ill. I've never given myself a chance to achieve balance. This all-or-nothing mentality just isn't sustainable, which is why I constantly find myself vacillating from one end of the spectrum to the other, when I really should be seeking the relief that comes with the in-between.
Coupled with this interminable floundering, life feels pretty directionless. Perhaps I'm not giving myself enough credit, but when I find myself sitting at a computer and taking people's credit card numbers forty hours per week, one has to wonder. I don't mean to denigrate this occupation: I just know in my heart of hearts that I have so much more to offer, and I almost feel myself regressing from the monotony of these days. How can I ever leave entry-level positions when this is what I have to show for myself? I feel terribly depressed just thinking of this prospect.
I am trying, however begrudgingly, to inspire myself outside of work. I'm working on a short story, which I hope to finish by July 1st. I'm applying for volunteer positions at other non-profits, with the hope that I can once again engage and challenge myself intellectually. I'm trying to read more books, despite the overwhelming desire to collapse in bed at the end of the day and watch Netflix until I fall asleep. I even started to write to an LGBTQ prisoner, with whom I hope to begin a nice pen pal exchange. And I guess that's really all I can do right now, until things look up.
And I know things really aren't that bad. But in the thick of everything, when the days drag on, when the weeks are devoid of hustle, when quiet solitude is all I know, nothing feels easy. Here's hoping spring comes at last.
xo
