I talk about being fearless a lot. I’m not as much as I would like to be, but I try (and occasionally fail.)
A recent post by my buddy Finn got me to thinking about the transition of change in our lives and how painful it is. And it is. I see my other friend, rack9, adjusting to a new way of life. It can’t be easy. I talked to her on the phone last week and I realized although an ocean separates us, that I feel just as disconcerted as she does. It can become a raw wound. Trying to explain my lack of motivation and sadness to people that I love becomes very hard. I find myself defensive. I can’t understand why others don’t understand, but then again, if I don’t understand it myself, how are they going to get it.
I’ll be honest, the professional and personal hits I vaguely refer to that I took in February have made me introspective and considering that things will never change. And also, I ALLOWED them to make me feel less than. And this makes me feel worse than anything else because I have allowed someone else to make me feel unnecessary.
And that is no one’s fault but my own.
Unless I change this myself, you know.
Where do I belong? What should I do? Why do I feel so unmotivated? Why can’t I let this go? What do I want?
And there is the crux of everything. What do I want to do? I realized long ago that there are no white knights on strong steeds coming to save me. We have to save ourselves and then sometimes that doesn’t work and we have to readjust. And accept. But there in lies the rub.
Confidence also wanes. I’ve always been pretty self-assured, but not recently. Recently, I’ve just been tired. So tired that it’s almost like a disease creeping through my body, and my spirit eating away at me like cancer. It’s scary stuff, but in being somewhat transparent on this blog, you get the good with the bad. Part of it.
I don’t know what the answers are. I do know that I need to find my mojo again. I don’t really know how to do this. But I’m in good company. Strong women like Finn and rack9 give me hope because they are fearless in a time when I don’t feel that I am, although it hurts, so I know I can get back to that. It will just take time. And we all have our moments of fear or confusion and it’s fine because that’s what makes us stronger if we don’t get immersed in mud.
And aren’t we all the same in some ways, despite the differences of our situations, because learning to become fearless and move forward is the same despite the circumstances.
It’s food for thought for me on this Monday.
I’ll try today to do something fearless, something I’ve never done before. I don’t know what that something is. It will probably be a small and only significant to me. But I’m going to try.
And yeah, this post is about hope and grabbing the lifeline.
Now back to your regular scheduled programming of ‘coma.
Newscoma 
Seems like everything we do is either out of ‘love’ or ‘fear’. Good for you for opting for the love that will make you fearless.
I know this may sound silly, but I’ve discovered that one way to do something fearless is to go on a foreign mission trip (or any kind of relief trip, if you want to take the faith element out of it). I used to tell people I was just not cut out for foreign missions — and then, when I ended up going to Nicaragua in 2003, I slept in a dirt-floor shack in the middle of nowhere. In the evenings it was me and one teammate, neither of whom spoke much Spanish, living with a family that didn’t speak English. Talk about overcoming your fears!
Ironically, the trips I’ve been on the past three years have been much better in terms of living conditions (we’ve had indoor plumbing at least part of the day). I still spend too much time fearful and lacking self-confidence, but I think my trips have helped me take some steps in the right direction.
This is one of those times I’d like to say something, but can’t come up with the words. *hugs*
And that is what I fear, becoming “immersed in mud” as you so aptly put it. I feel as though I’ve been that way for the past few years and when I think of all that time that I feel has been wasted (but perhaps it isn’t, perhaps its shaped me in some positive way, I don’t know) I feel sick. I don’t see a clear path in front of me to take from this point.
Anywho, I know you relate and that helps a lot.
I’m a total nerd (and I shouldn’t admit this) but there are so many times I find myself repeating “Fear is the mind-killer” as a mantra to get me through even the most ordinary things like going to Sunday School when I don’t feel like it.
I think we must all have fears that do their best to cripple us. I’m afraid of so many things.
I dunno why, but knowing that others struggle with fear is good for me, because it makes “fear” seem more inocuous–more like mosquitos than dinosaurs.
Good luck at doing a fearless thing today. Maybe I’ll try to do the same.
Amen, sister.
I hate that as I’m coming out of that yuckiness, you’re getting in. I didn’t tell you the water was fine, did I , because I was crazy if I did. It sucks, and I think that it just takes a bit of time to get out of the funk. But know this, that I completely believe in you. You’re almost like my idol. Seriously. I’m not kidding. I think you’re effing hilarious and a lot smarter than I’ll ever be. I are smart, but you am smarter. 😀
Yeah, it sucks when you realize that noone’s going to save you, but screw that anyways. You don’t need anyone to save you anyhow. Me either. Finn, you either. Sometimes all we need is someone to poke a hole in the plastic so we can vent. (I just ate a TV dinner, can you tell?) We are under some crazy misconception that we’re supposed to keep it all under control and bottled up, but really, only so much steam can build up before we pop our lids. It’s better that we have these little episodes every now and again to keep the pressure even.
I wish I could help you both out of this rut, but we all know I can’t. It just has to pass. Like a virus. Not herpes though, because that crap never goes away. You can only suppress it. Thanks, Valtrex! Seriously, it just has to pass. All I can do is tell you that I’m thinking of you and rooting you on. And that I look up to you and have every confidence in the world for you. And I apologize if my being down the last couple of weeks has sparked yours.
Naah, it’s just me, the job thing, the living in Hooterville thing. All of it and this wicked sinus headached that is destined to make me becoming a raving lunatic, R9. Thanks for the wonderfully kind words.
Finn, we are going to be fine.
And to everyone else, thanks. Am I being too transparent on this blog? I worry about that. I mean, I really do.
John and Ivy, I sent you both an e-mail and thanks for the encouragement.
Sandye: Thanks so much for being just nice everytime you come by.
KC: I’m glad that, though we are different, we share a lot of the same interests and that I really like it. I repeat “The only thing to fear is fear itself” almost daily. And with our television and reading habits which are similar, it makes me feel good. Seriously.
Wishing you all good thoughts. I swear, you all made me tear up.
[…] Update: Related goodness from Newscoma. […]
Well, I understand how all that can get you down, but I’m glad you live in Hooterville. You breathe life into that place! You and your whole crew! Tell SQ I say Hi by the way. Ask anyone my old stomping ground and they’ll tell you that they look FORWARD to seeing you guys. I know I did. It’s people like y’all that make me miss home.
Sinus headaches I cannot help. Get some good drugs….the legal kind, mind you. On second thought, the ILlegal kind would probably work better. Either or. I hope you get to feeling better soon!
Hee.
You make me laugh.
That’s really nice.
Maybe I should go get a hot toddy from the Rick.
Do they help sinus headaches?
I will pretend they do.
I’m sending a HUGE hug to my sister of the big hair.
xoxoxoxo
Ginger
[…] it probably is. I don’t deny that. Yet, my feelings are very real. So are newscoma’s, Finn’s, Kathy T’s, etc., all of whom seem to be in the doldrums, too. I know that […]