Hanging from my ankles, neck deep in an ocean of caramel-colored water. Or maybe running through a muddy field in only socks. Perhaps...perhaps it is like being punched in the same eye, once a week. But on different days. Waking up to find that your bed has been stolen and you are late for a flight you forgot you booked. I think that is how I'm feeling. But I'm not sure because, even though it's been a month, it is still too new. And I'm not processing. Not like I should be. But what else is new.
Some days are better than others. All my friends said that is to be expected. I didn't listen but they told me. I recognize I'm a strange brew. Pinch of arrogance, 3 cups of self-doubt, a tablespoon of comedy. Let that sit on the counter until it smells like fermenting lemons. Once you're ready, forget about it for a week then come back to a surprise. It's a boy.
Enough allegory. I'm starting to realize I don't know who I am. I know who I used to be. Who I want to be. But I have no clue who this stranger who stares back at me in the mirror is. Or what he wants. What he considers his strengths. His real fears. Not the ones everyone has. But instead, the fears that stop him from finding his feet. I have no clue who this guy is. Or if he will be OK. And that is scary.
I've read before that you have to let your old self die in order to move on to your new self. Appreciate that old self for getting you to where you are now and realize those things, that person was what you needed then. And it may not serve your future. That person. But I sorta liked that guy. I mourn that person. He was kind, at times. He felt invincible, at times. He was built for the life I lived. I don't know what life I want to live now. So in those ruins of old Sean, who do I build? What do I keep? What do I discard?
I fully realize that this isn't the end of the world. I just lost a job. But I poured everything into that job. Tied my identity to it. Without it, I feel lost. Untethered. I'm not proud of that but it is the truth. The validation I received was intoxicating. It was a drug for me. Constant drips of confirmation that I was OK. Valued. Necessary. Then... it was gone.
So, I've learned that I need to cultivate that in myself. Do not source it from the outside. Vertically integrate my happiness. Find the things that make me happy, do them, and repeat them. Dig deep and find the courage to be scared. I'm not sure where I'm headed but I know I'm headed somewhere. Hopefully, these two feet have another trip in them. Hopefully, my spirit will heal. Hopefully...I find that new guy. The one the old guy has been trying to introduce me to.
Comments
Post a Comment