I’ve been in a fog. I’ve been angry. I’ve been nasty. I’ve been lonely. I’ve been ambivalent about my future. I’ve been anxious. I’ve been borderline depressed.
I’ve been waiting to get the hell out of this phase.
How long have I been here? I know I’ve been ANGRY since my son was born. We found out the day after he was born he had a stroke the week before he was born. He started having seizures shortly. I’ve been ANGRY at doctors, therapists, and well meaning friends and family. My son appears to be great now, but I have been on the defense every since. On the defense against doctors, therapists, other parents. And, on the defense of the Boogie Man. Because I’ve been pretty certain he would jump out and do something awful to my son. Intellectually I know better. But…
We’ve moved three times in the last year. Once from San Francisco to our temporary home. Again from the temporary home to our house. A third time from our home to another temporary apartment while we remodel. I braced for feeling out of sorts. It always happens when I move. So, I accepted it. I accepted being lonely and out of sorts.
Before my son was born and before we moved, I was halfway through a masters program in Counseling Psychology. I LOVED almost every single minute of my classes, my colleagues, my professors, my homework. I felt alive and felt that I was on the right track in my life. And then I had my son and felt so broken that I didn’t think I’d ever be a good enough counselor. But, I hoped it was just temporary.
So, I think I’ve been in a fog for maybe 2 years, give or take. But, I’m tired of it. And I prayed for some direction. (Yes, non-religious girl here does pray…she’s had pretty good luck in the past with this notion.) And, I tried to get comfortable being really uncomfortable in life. I tried to have faith that I would get a little light and lightness back in my spirit.
And it came. At the gym. On the treadmill. Listening to my very cheesy playlist (Dance S’press or however they spell it). Reading an article about powerful women in Oprah’s magazine. The fog lifted. I felt my lightness return. Anger and anxiety lift a bit. And felt my mojo again. My flow. My vision. Lots of things I’ve been considering suddenly got really clear and simple. Things I was agonizing over suddenly felt like simple decisions. I felt a little bit of wonderful—the same way I used to feel when I drove across the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco after a really great day in classes. (Hence the picture above). Like everything was going to be okay. And I might get to be myself again.
Disclaimers: I am prone to wordiness and psychobabble. I only have HALF a masters in psychology, which means that I can spew a lot of stuff, but not qualified to even work with your over anxious puppy. Apologies.
{ 0 comments }
