When I don’t know what to do or how to feel, I write. I write in hopes of finding some sort of safety, connection, security. I don’t know if writing has ever helped me figure out what to do or how to feel. But I can say that writing put me at ease. It calms me and strengthens me.
I haven’t been focused on self-maintenance the past couple of years. I threw myself into wedding planning upon getting engaged, and from there I was dedicated to marathon training. After that, selling the condo and getting into our new house. I’ve given myself goals for distraction from the emotional difficulties I’ve faced. Even currently, I’m (half-assedly) training for the Chicago Triathlon Super Sprint.
In all of this distraction, I find a comfortable pace. But somewhere along the way, I collapsed emotionally. It’s only here with my thoughts that I’ve been at my best. When I can navigate my self doubt, triumps and failures. When I can reminice and remember, smiling at the good and cringing with the bad. But in my head is no place to live. Those moments are memories and are worth moving on from.
So how do I find happiness in the present? I’ve come to terms with the inescapble fact that I will never get closer and may never truly move on. Do we ever, even when the damage is repaired?
So what’s next? Where do I go from here? I’ll turn to the things that I love. I’ll turn to the written word, long adventures with no destination and enabling change. I’ll be busy and maybe it will all just be a distraction, but I know that’s where I can find happiness. I’ll stop trying to fill a gap and start trying to heal.
beesophia 