The last 10 months have caused me so much pain and confusion, and I have spent more time than I probably realize just thinking. Trying to understand, trying to learn, trying to just know all the answers to my whys. I don’t understand why, at the peak of my excitement, at the peak of my eagerness to learn and experience life, do I get hit in the face with this weird, debilitating anxiety that prevents me from doing these things? It’s so depressing to dread things I used to literally cry over wanting so badly.
In the midst of the seemingly endless days of confusion, trying to sort myself out, I am sometimes hit with incredibly eye-opening revelations.
“Life’s Greatest Adventure
lies in the experience
of Finding Yourself.”
Although I loved my job at the eye care place, the hour-long drive there and back was almost always spent wondering how people can stand to stay in these kinds of 9-5 routines. Doing the same thing and having the same thing happen every day was literally making me ill. I couldn’t stand it. I hated where I was. I felt like things were going nowhere. I wanted to leave, roam, drive, fly, anything else. It actually hurt my spirit to do what I was doing. Eventually I tried to convince myself that adventure wasn’t only discovered in international travel, or even cross-country travel. It could be discovered in my back yard. Anywhere that was new to me was an adventure. It brought excitement to my life. I was planning mini-trips, day trips, weekend getaways for every month of 2015. Every weekend I was going to find something to see. Something to do. Somewhere to eat; where I had never been before. That was my new adventure. I tried to reign in my dreams a bit by being practical, but it still didn’t feel right to me. It wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to go and do anything other than what I was supposed to. I’ve always been like that. I never had “practical” ambitions. Since I can remember, I was going to be an artist, a fashion designer, photographer, a travel blogger, I wanted to see the world and I wanted to share it through my photos with people who couldn’t. I was so passionate about seeing everything because it was so overwhelming to me how much beauty there is on Earth and I felt like I had been wasting my life staring at the same concrete walls every day. The thought of continuing to be that person was just unacceptable to me. I can’t even wrap my brain around living in one place for my entire life. It just wasn’t going to work.
My battle with anxiety has pushed these dreams of mine even farther out of my reach and I’ve spent so much time asking why. I couldn’t even begin to understand why this would happen to me, and I’ve had my share of pity parties over it, I can’t lie. On any given day, just thinking about it makes me cry. It upsets me that much. I worry about family vacation; how I’ll feel, what if’s, and I feel a world of frustration. I kick myself for “wasting” even more of my life. I wonder if I’ll ever make it to San Francisco or if Kyle and I will be able to have the tropical honey moon we dream about. But I’ve realized recently that this just is my adventure. It’s kind of shitty right now, and I feel like I’m trying to climb this mountain-sized speed bump in my life just to get a tiny glimpse of the light on the other side, but it’s certainly an adventure, right? Maybe this had to happen to me because my “gypsy soul” was taking me off the path I was meant to be on. Maybe I was meant to stay where I was so I could learn the things I’ve learned about myself. To get in touch with my soul and start digging into the issues I’ve always faced, but ignored. I think maybe this was the universe’s way of forcing me to learn and love so I could better appreciate what my future holds for me.
The greatest adventure lies in the experience of finding yourself & I think that’s where I am.
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