Untitled girl and a stream of consciousness.

Written November 2014, during a low moment…

Today is a new day, a fresh start, as is each and every morn’ that we wake and see the sky and salute the sun within. Today is a new day, a fresh start…

I don’t know exactly what happened or when, again, but I got off track. I let myself yet become overwhelmed with life and everything I thought I ought to do, including who I should be and where I should go and what I should do to make money and what that big ol’ purpose is for my life.

Guess what? That’s a terrible thing to do. Of course it happens to everyone from time to time, but when this happens to me, and if I let it continue to happen (which, of course, I’ve been known to do…), I lose myself.

When this happens, I’m scared me into a state of paralysis in which I don’t want to try. Anything. Yet, I’ll do just about anything to mask the paralyzing pain and numb myself while I wait it out. I find a way to almost constantly distract and busy myself… I don’t think that’s the best thing to do, but it’s what I do. (did. am doing. now.) I retreat into a safe zone of comfort. (family. foods. movies. beds. arms.)

I don’t want this for my life, but yet, when I am in that state, I lose my ability to really want for my life. I lose the ability to really feel or know pleasure. I lose the ability to even want to feel or know pleasure. It’s like I stop wanting to exist. Not die, just not “live” in the sense I know is possible. (my life is a roller coaster ride… up, WAY WAY WAY up, and then down. And sometimes, down really fucking fast… in my head at least…) I don’t know who this person is, because she surely isn’t the best me…

But I do know that she (me) is a side of Robin (me) that comes around from time to time and really messes up my flow. I sometimes hate her… And I don’t hate anything. (that’s a stretch, because those factory farms are seriously fucked up… and even then, I like ice cream… hypocrit, but I gotta keep it real.)

She’s here now and I don’t want her to hang around. So how do I let her go… How do I push her aside… She’s a shadow side that I probably (apparently. obviously.) haven’t addressed fully yet. I should probably learn to embrace her. Let the free lady bird gal give her a hug sometimes… Let myself soften and see and feel without hating. Stop picking at my cuticles and eating too many cookies and waiting until too late to prepare for my day and procrastinating with my work and dreaming of being everywhere except where I am. I should probably just let myself be. here. now. and love this. place. right here.

Is it possible to create an alter ego for myself? For the me I want to be. Maybe a fake name. Iris. (no one would believe that was my real name, unless I moved to Portland, which considering one of my Chrome tabs currently open is roommates wanted in the ‘city of my dreams’, isn’t too far fetched. but no. not Iris.) Maybe something new, reinventing the Robin I am. The one with debt and mistakes and regret and trust issues and walls that even she doesn’t know how to scale any more… The one who thought she had it (all aforementioned things and more) figured out, and who very publicly stood on a soap box (per blog. social media. ego-feeding tools.) and told you how, and told you what you didn’t know you needed to know. Who felt great and attributed it to the wisdom she gained in her quarter-life crisis. Who reconnected with the earth, with her body, with her heart… Who opened up too damn much. (maybe.) Who really wasn’t ready to leave (who really ever is?) but took off instead, heading overseas for a few-month adventure, letting herself learn and study and feel, deep deep deep down, for a little while. And even then, she was trying to be needed. Trying to find a way to assert her role. Trying to let others in, and trying to find that damn purpose again. (you can’t find it. seriously. we all know this, and I’ve learned it many times. but damn it, I want to know!)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s