I have no idea who, if anyone, still comes to visit this blog.
I know I’ve been somewhat sporadic for a while, and MIA since I got back from my Great Wall for SANE adventure. I’ve been justifying my absence with the amount of training I was doing, then my post-adventure flomp … but really, I’m just lost.
I’ve been, for want of a better word, transitioning. I had wanted to do this post before I left, because I really didn’t want it to be construed as the result of some sort of “life changing” experience I may have had in China, or anything like that. But I did (genuinely) run out of time and didn’t get around to it.
Then I felt a but silly doing it after … and also just simply lost. Confused. Confounded. Confuddled.
I had wanted to apply this, because this is really what’s happened:
I literally woke up one day and was so sick of myself, I had to do something.
I didn’t like me. I didn’t like who I was, or what I was doing. Or, rather, what I kept saying I was going to do and just never doing.
I disgusted myself.
I was really beginning to dislike the person I was.
And I don’t say this because I’m fishing for compliments. You don’t live with me, and you don’t live inside my head. I know many people see me in a certain way, and whilst that’s really cool and incredibly appreciated, there’s more inside of me. I can do more and I don’t.
I don’t like that.
There was more, so many things to list that I just didn’t like. About me.
I like to be able to say that I changed “just like that” but that’s not also true.
I haven’t yet changed all that much, yet in some ways I have changed greatly.
I have, as a result, moved away from people whom I loved and cared about (and still do) because they were holding me in the place I didn’t like. They were allowing me, unintentionally, subconsciously, and unknowingly, to be this person I didn’t like.
Part of changing – for anyone – relies on others getting it. Suddenly, you’re this person who isn’t the same as you were the day before. You’re doing yoga and refusing to join in backstabbing, gossip, and whining constantly about your life.
Yes, you read right. I’m doing yoga. Once a week. And I enjoy it. And it makes me feel good.
And, no, I’m not going to go all elightened and shit and bang on about how fabulous yoga is and how everyone should do it. Because I also don’t believe that it is the be all and end all for everyone.
Because I embraced the downward dog – near smothering myself with my stupendous breasts in the process – I was also subject to ridicule and disdain. Initially, I was furious at the lack of support, and the “change in attitude” towards me.
Then I realised, mid-dolphin pose, that it wasn’t them that had changed at all. It was me. I was no longer “that” person that they knew. The person who would never do yoga, and partook in life-whining. Although I was not ever really a life-whiner, but I certainly participated in conversations and, disgustingly, enabled others in the activity.
I’m disgusted in myself that I allowed this to happen. I didn’t know what else to do.
Whilst I’m here, I’ll aslo admit I do pilates.
I have not, and have no plans to do so, taken up running. My boobs will only let me do so much. Yoga is the edge of my limits.
Taking that first step was hard; aside from now facing ridicule from friends. I found myself flinching when I visited certain blogs and groups on Facebook. Some that had been a part of my life, a habit, for years.
I opted out; some were harder than others. Some people took it personally, a few self-centeredly and made it all about them. Moving away from some meant hurtful, tearful discussions, a intense lack of understanding. I get that, but it doesn’t make it easier.
Or does it? See, for the next week, I felt extremely … odd. Every morning for the next short while, I felt something was missing.
It took a little over a week for me to realise what it was … I was no longer flinching or twitching when I did my morning coffee-and-Facebook routine before work.
The good old “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”, which I had anticipated would hit me like a Mack truck, quickly became “you don’t know how much something was stressing you until it’s no longer in your life”.
I think they’re both adages that are well worth holding close to your heart.
A weight, a great, crushing weight had been lifted. I felt so relieved that I felt bad that I didn’t feel bad.
The weight has changed and I am swirling in a vortex made of the last ten years, all the things I’ve learned, and all the possibilities ahead of me.
I woke the other morning, in tears, after a dream where I was standing in front of an obese woman who was asking for my help, and I was so afraid of upsetting others in my desire to help her that I did nothing.
I cried. Because of a dream. It wasn’t real, yet I awoke with a deep sadness in my heart and disgust in myself.
Because this, if I’m really honest with myself, and with you, is how I have been operating. It fills me with shame and embarrassment to even admit it, but it is the truth.
It seems I care more about inadvertently offending others, those who either miss the point – intentionally or otherwise – and/or simply like being offended, than using my gifts to assist others.
It fills me with the wanky sort of embarrassment to even suggest I have a “gift”, but if we’re being honest with me about one, then why not the other? I spend my life focussing on all the things I can’t do, or shutting off the emotions associated with them, that I blind myself to the good … and shut off the positive emotions along with the negative.
What I do know, although I don’t know why, is that I have an insatiable drive, a passion, and an unrelneting desire to make a difference in a certain way to the lives of certain people. Not actual specific people that I’ve hand selected and know by name. More general than that.
So yes, I woke up and no longer wanted to be that person any more. Just like that.
Becoming the not-that-person has been a hard, distressing, upsetting, but also enlightening and relieving road.
I don’t actually know who I will be. I don’t know where I’m going.
All I know is I can’t do this any more; I can’t be that person any more.
I did find this quote last night (oh, dear, I’m not getting all #instaquote obnoxious am I?), which is something to aim for, I guess:
I am not here yet. I hope I get there soon. I know am I so filled with a desire to change the world I don’t anticipate it will be easy to get to the “today”.
I could use the love, the support, the encouragement.
I could certainly use the smartarse comments! I have been missing those so much.
Other than that … I hope to have you with me, once this swirly vortex spits me out and allows me to carry on with those things that matter to me.