But… What Now?

It is a very strange and interesting concept to feel like you are stuck at a writer’s block when you don’t even really consider yourself a writer.

I started this blog as a place that I could write about those things that truly plagued my mind without feeling the guilt and shame of blasting it in everyone’s social media feeds. But now it seems almost as though I have set myself up for an impossible task. People have told me for awhile now that my writing matters and can help other’s through their seasons, simply because for some reason, my brain can string the sentences along that somewhat make sense of that overwhelming and downright unbearable chaos in your mind and heart.

But… now what do I write about? What’s next? How do you just pick through a list of the deepest, darkest parts of your life and just let it all spill out?

My last couple posts were fairly easy to get out – they were illustrating a chunk of my journey I have been on for awhile now. The journey through the unexpected passing of my mother, February before last. I wrote about the pain and sad. I wrote about the anger. Because I knew those emotions well, they were never too far away for me to forget what their sting felt like. Then slowly, as they became more common emotions, they became easier to identify. They became easier to isolate and disengage from their wrath. I’ve gotten a little stronger each day and am learning how to control how long those times of rage and depression can take over.

So, now… the next step.

Well, what is the next step? Where do I go now? What do I do with my time that I’m not sad? What direction do I take with my life now that I know I still have one to live, but it will be entirely different? Am I making the right decisions? How do you still find drive without the one person who drove you the most?

I think my answer was in front of me without even realizing it. Stop trying to find all the answers. It seems as though now, the next step is simply confusion. All those questions above and then some. Every hour, of every day. As someone who strives off of structure – this is almost more torture than the non-stop crying. But I think I need to just let myself be confused for awhile. Every time I feel like I have found a direction to start to shift things, the world reminds me that if I want them to last, there has to be fire and purpose behind everything you do. So if you are just going to stumble along and half-ass it, don’t bother. It’s not going to withhold in the stand against time. Let yourself be who you are right now; confused.

I keep asking myself why I am so tired all the time but have the overwhelming feeling of having nothing accomplished. I am working hard to comprehend the fact that it is simply because it takes so much brain power to have this internal daily struggle. I fear if I give into too much into the confusion, I will be judged and misunderstood from the outside. Looking like I can’t find my way; lost, misdirected. However on the flip side, I am starting to see that giving into the confusion is the only way I am going to find an avenue out. I need to give into the stimulating ideas. Try the dance class I’ve always been thinking about. Take that vacation. Start a blog. Paint my walls. Play. Explore. Discover. Laugh.

When you see no way out – start over. Find something that pulls you out. Find what makes your heart smile. And give no apologies along the way.

If you are trying to find a new way as a person, especially if some uncontrollable circumstances threw you there, you should never have to apologize. It may be hard for some people to bear, you may not accept the same scenarios or treatment from others you used to, but no one is allowed to tell you what’s right for you. Not only was I confused about a new life without my mom, but I was confused about what I was allowed to do, or ask, or try, or straight up say no to. Because I was letting other people set those boundaries for me. But ultimately – they don’t have to live my life. I may as you to walk a mile in my shoes to understand, but you never really will. I am the one who has to live with the consequences of my decisions. Whether that be completely freeing because I finally said no, or disastrous because I was untrue to myself and trying to live someone else’s reality.

The main goal of my writing is to find some kind clarity for myself and I think what I have found here is some sort of acceptance. Acceptance to be confused. To feel the journey, explore the journey, and stop feeling like every moment has to make complete and udder sense. Some moments can just be beautiful and one day, those moments will guide me to a way to piece them together through the next day, weeks, and years. With fire and passion.