First, the meat and potatoes…
A conversation with my husband led me to this moment in time. For awhile-years actually- I had been feeling out of touch with myself. I was actually at a point where I was my own personal stranger. The face in the mirror was familiar but I constantly questioned the operator behind the eyes. It seemed as if there was no way to get into the Emerald City of my mind (I am an avid Wizard of Oz/The Wiz watcher, by the way) to have a good old fashioned meet and greet with that wonderful wizard.
On top of that, I was always enveloped in some form of anger. Usually it was a stagnant type of anger, just there keeping me company. A shadow whispering in my ear about any and everything of the dont-make-sense variety. Whispering just enough to keep me quietly agitated 24 hours/7 days a week. There were, however, occasions when my anger was eruptive. I’m talking volcano ash and lava.
A simple question…Grrrr… Deciding what’s for dinner…Grrrr… Talkative cashier…Grrrr…Talkative anyone for that matter….Grrrr, Grrrr and more GRRRRR!!!! It wasn’t pretty and it also wasn’t necessary.
With all the emotional whirlwind going on, my husband suggested that I place more emphasis on things I liked to do outside of being employed full-time, and being a mother and a wife. I believe his exact words may have been, “Get a hobby or prepare yourself for a lifelong supply of 500mg of Chillaxaquil 3 times a day”! After giving it much thought, I realized that I didn’t have anything to put emphasis on. Absolutely no favorites! There was not one solid thing that I could come up with that I genuinely liked to do. WTH? This was insane because I could remember a time when my mind flowed with creativity! From writing poetry and wanting to write a book, to arts and crafts and thoughts of creating my own bath, body and massage product line. Once upon a time, this girl had big dreams! Now I was stranded on a deserted strip of road in the middle of nowhere with 3 flat tires. Suddenly, 500mg of Chillaxaquil didn’t sound so bad.
So, with all the sugar plums that danced through my head, why was it now so hard to find that one thing? The niche so to speak? What happened to my drive? Where did my ambition go? I could sit here for days on end and place blame on other people for the situations I have faced and the unfortunate series of events I have attended that may have darkened my dreams. I could but I won’t. The fact is my experiences, or lack thereof, are just as much my fault and, in some cases, much more than anyone elses. I am the originator of my successes. I am the only one who can label a failure as a lesson learned or allow a lesson to label me as a failure.
The more I reviewed my past the more I realized that, through the years, I managed to lock myself in a mental box that limited me from experiencing new things. I, essentially, stunted my growth. It is cringe worthy to admit but necessary to be said that I stunted my growth because I didn’t want to overwhelm someone else with my potential greatness. I allowed someone’s intimidation of me evolving from a caterpillar to a butterfly to trap me inside a cocoon that became poisoned from my own carbon dioxide. I have come to realize that when you are surrounded by toxicity, every aspect of your being is chipped away. I spent years trying to get someone to see the good in me instead of me trying to nurture the great in me and, as a result, I have lived with the dissatisfaction of me and it is time to move on.
First blog complete!!! Yaaay!!!!