I often think, I am going through something right now. Then I stop and realize that I am always going through something. It’s just that it feels unique and different every time, and I hold onto this false idea that there is some kind of normal life where I don’t feel like I’m riding the waves of the ocean–where it isn’t one thing after another. But that isn’t life, I know. And thank God, because how boring would that be?
What I’m saying, internet, is that I’m going through something right now. And it’s hard to explain, because when I express my optimism, it seems to too easily miss the sadness and when I express the sadness, I miss the optimism. I experience happiness and sadness together in a way that seems paradoxical. But, if studying theology has taught me anything, it’s that truth is often found close to where things seem uncomfortable and contradictory.
I’m a deep feeling and sensitive person and that hasn’t always made life easy for me. When I was younger, I felt like those ocean waves might actually sweep me away. So I built walls to keep myself together and to keep the tumultuous waters from reaching me. I do have some regret. I know that by trying to protect myself, I missed out on what could have been amazing experiences. But I am largely at peace about it, because I think I needed that time. And having taken it, I became this person I’m really happy to be. Just the other night, I thought, I wish I’d realized years ago how awesome I am.
This is a new level of self-assuredness. This kind of knowing I will be okay, knowing I won’t be swept away. More than that: genuinely liking the person I am in a way that I haven’t before. Maybe this belongs in a seperate post, but I think it has everything to do with why the risk of being swept away doesn’t scare me like it used to. The fear was always of losing myself and the things I’d constructed myself out of, but I realize now that those things can’t be taken away from me.
The sadness is real and it is not made right by optimism or anything else, but I experience it more like waves now and not a rock pinning me to the ground. I feel on a level even deeper than before and it is scary, but music sounds better here and words are more moving. Still, it is one thing after the next, and having arrived here, I find myself uncertain about what to do next. I’m impatient.
I want to jump off cliffs, but I find my life is more full of rolling hills instead. I did jump off of one cliff and was reminded that the universe doesn’t always teach you the lesson you want to learn, because nothing happened. And nothing is the worst. I would have preferred crash and burn.
So this has been my March. Seeing David Gray in concert. Wine and Zac Efron. A trip North to visit Bri and meet Katherine. Time spent in my favorite spot on the seventh floor of the stacks, staring out the window, except it’s usually dark and I can’t see anything. Disappearing from my desk to walk around campus and listen to music. And managing my own impatience by seeking out things that unsettle me.
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
A few things.
This is one of the most beautiful posts I have read.
I’m sure we aren’t going through the same things (because that would be ca-razy), but I feel like I could have written this.
And when you said you want to jump of a cliff, my first thought was Bella in New Moon. Depressing, right?
I agree with Ashley D. It’s very honest, this post and beautiful.
Oddly, my favorite line was: “Time spent in my favorite spot on the seventh floor of the stacks, staring out the window, except it’s usually dark and I can’t see anything.” Reminds me about life in general and how we strain to see what’s ahead btu usually we can’t see anything.
Best(est) wishes,
- Linda
I love the way you write. You speak exactly to how I’m feeling right now. Sad, but also optimistic. I think I’m also always going through something, because I feel things so deeply and I’m not always the best at processing that.
“truth is often found close to where things seem uncomfortable and contradictory.” This is going to stick in my mind, I can tell. Such a beautiful post. Big hug!
I could really relate to this post. You put into words what I’ve been struggling to define within myself. I think that you and I are similar in that we are both relatively introverted, sensitive people. People like us doubt ourselves constantly, but I think we also have the potential to be extremely honest with ourselves. I used to resent this quality in myself, but after reading your post, I’m realizing, it’s a gift.
I find that I can always relate to your writing. I’ve only commented once or twice before, but I read regularly. Your debt blog was inspiring and I’m working on paying off my own mountain of debt while finishing a degree and sorting out life in general. That feeling that you’re always going through something speaks to me so much. We have to accept joy and sorrow together, they sit gently, side-by-side. I think I stole that from a poem I once read…
The important part here is that life is about the waves; up and down, up and down, up and down. Enjoy the ups, embrace the downs. I’m not about to be all “Yo, be HAPPY when you’re fucking miserable.” No way. But rest assured that everything is in your control, and things aren’t always the way you want them, they’re the way they are.
Also? “If you want to be happy, be.”
Hang in there, hotpants. ;)
This was such a beautifully written post – you have a real talent here, miss. I have to echo what the girl above said – “if you want to be happy, be” – sometimes we can get so caught up in overthinking things that we miss what’s staring us in the face – life can become exactly what we want it to if we just decide on the right attitude with which to face it.
So, I’ll just go ahead and jump on the bandwagon: I read this three times and kept thinking to myself, “I could have written this myself.” So glad there’s someone out there who is able to put those feelings into words.
Love this post and you just made me realize that my life is more like rolling hills instead too.
“I wish I’d realized years ago how awesome I am.”
I remember having that same realization! I was sad, yet happy about it. I’m glad you discovered this because you are indeed awesome!