I’m Writing This For Me

I’ve been giving away a lot of my energy lately; being the listener, the supporter, the shoulder to cry on. I enjoy being that person, but I forgot to reset and fill my own bucket. And today I’m out of patience.

I’ve known for a while that I’m in a season of change. And today has been a day. I feel fully enraged and manic. I even went out, bought a pack of cigarettes and enjoyed one by myself in my car without a second-thought.

I’ve been dealing with some challenging thoughts about what I want and what direction I’m headed in life. What I want to do. Where I want to live. Who I want to share my time and energy with. Maybe being alone in the car with those thoughts for too long today got to be too much. Maybe no longer having the distractions I find when I’m in my own home allowed these questions to bubble to the surface more intensely.

Am I overwhelmed? Am I mad that I don’t have answers? Am I sad because I don’t feel like I have anyone to share these thoughts with? Or… am I just hungry?

And why are my first instincts to go have a cigarette? To wonder if it’s too early for a drink? Am I okay? Am I numbing? Or… am I bored?

I have too many questions and too few answers.

And it’s usually my favorite time of year. The cliche time to look back, reflect, and think about how far I’ve come; what I’ve been able to accomplish, who I’ve met, and how much closer to my goals I am. This year I am struggling to measure anything; I fully coasted. No goals, no plans, no relationships… I just wasted my time. And not even on purpose to slow down and remind myself of the good things I have in front of me. No, I coasted because I have nothing else to do. Nothing to focus on.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a great year. I laughed hard, I played hard, I got in tremendous physical and emotional shape.

But…

What happened to the entrepreneur? What happened to the ultra-marathoner? What happened to the woman learning how to share herself with another? What happened to road-tripper? The adventurer? The dreamer? The writer? The party-planner? The lego-builder?

I care less about the lack of tangible accomplishments and more about the fact that I’m not on a trajectory. At least, not one I feel can sustain me long-term. How long can I continue to be the-regular-at-the-bar and assume I’m going to end up somewhere I’m truly fulfilled?

And yet, as I let these questions overwhelm me today, a day with little patience, while spending countless hours in traffic, I found myself looking at the back of a truck that brought me back to center. A Ford Maverick. A tiny truck that looks like every other Ford truck, but the tailgate stared straight back at me, “M A V E R I C K.”

Oh, yea…

I’m here. I’m me. I’m arguably more me than I have ever been. And maybe I am a little aimless at the moment, but I’m not lost. The questions I’m asking will inevitably find their answers. But for today, it’s ok to just be human and say that it all got the better of me.

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