Over and over again I encounter the same obstacles that have been standing in my way for years. It's like I'm in a distorted version of that movie, Groundhog Day, and simply can't figure out how to break the cycle of inertia.
Now that you're completely confused as to what the hell I'm talking about, let me break it down for you.
Despite my outward appearance of fierce warrior goddess (uh-hem), I'm often wracked with insecurity and mistrust. You see, here's a secret...even the fiercest of warrior goddesses have scars. Because of the scars, I am probably more sensitive than I should be. Yes, warriors are often big softies beneath the shields.
It's easy to say that I don't care what people think, but that's a lie. I do care. No, I don't let opinions stop me from writing what I want or essentially doing what I want. That's true. Instead, I do something more destructive and allow those emotions to build walls around me to keep people out. Up goes the shield, I stand a bit taller, chin up, smile in place, move forward, defenses on alert--full warrior goddess mode in tact.
Walls may be good in buildings, but not in hearts. I advocate taking risks--look what I do for a living! Writers are gamblers, whether we want to call ourselves that or not. I risk rejection every day professionally and deal with it as if it's nothing--because it's not personal. When it comes to risking my heart...well, that's when the fear bubbles up.
Like with the dating thing, I honestly just want to have fun after all the drama I've experienced so when it becomes complicated from the get go, I wonder if my desire to back off is legitimate or a remembered ache from the scars. I hear the whisper...protect yourself, protect your heart...but what's doing the whispering? Instinct or fear? Am I looking for trouble instead of going with the flow? Maybe.
Broken hearts never return to their innocence. There's scar tissue there that needs to be acknowledged as we move forward. But that's the problem--the scar tissue is hard, ugly and mars perceptions. Doubts subtly snake around decisions, fracturing certainty.
Were the naysayers right to question my career choice? I should have pursued something more stable after Sean died, doubt mocks.
You can't take care of the house in the mountains, you should have moved years ago when the kids were younger. You're such a disappointment, doubt says.
You're too intense, too MUCH to handle, doubt laughs.
They want you to fail, don't let them see you weak, doubt advises.
Over and over again...the same questions, the same struggles. I drive myself craaaaaazzzyyy with all this! I know it. But here's the thing about being alone...at the end of the day, it's just you and your history sharing the silence together and sometimes that history is loud.
Long ago, I learned not to create stories about a situation, to take things at face value, and that I can only control myself. I get that on every level, I do, and I can often adhere to that...until it comes to the really personal stuff like relationships (dating, friendships, family).
But I carry on--usually happy with my shield up and smile in place. That's what we do, we warrior goddesses. But that gets lonely...begins feeling fake after awhile...feeds the doubt. Above all else, I want to be whole and authentic...so I drop the shield.
I can easily toss off a comment like "mov'n on, staying positive", but when the house is quiet and I'm all alone, the stories come mixed with doubt and remembered heartbreak and all I can do is roll in the emotion that consumes me. And I wonder...will it ever end? Will there ever be peace? Will there ever be love again? Will there ever be lasting rather than fleeting joy? Will I ever be accepted "as is" rather than what I used to be, should be or could be?
Will I ever stop over-thinking every damn thing?!
Yep, crazy is as crazy does. Didn't Forrest Gump say that?