From August of 2016 until August of 2019 I had a solid plan. I had a vision. I knew where I wanted to be and I was excited to find out what was drawing my heart there. I devoted myself to my goal as much as I knew how to. I told everyone that I was going to do it and the final months leading up to it, I started to prepare and brace myself.
Then, August of 2019 came to an end and took my dream with it. It was like watching someone take your most prized possession and tossing it into a grinding garbage disposal. I cried. I grieved. I isolated myself from everyone. I prayed. Everyone told me that I needed to just face what was in front of me; some even suggesting that my dream was never meant to come true in the first place. My heart was shattered into pieces and I didn’t trust bringing it to anyone for revival- not even God.
So I found something else to keep my mind occupied. A goal that I had 0 passion for, but intended to make myself enjoy. It helped a lot that everyone I knew supported this goal a lot more because it was one that was in their comfort zone. It might have been out of love and true concern, but the people that I held close were hoping my dream would turn to dust. Knowing this, I covered up my depression with a smiling mask and pursued my plan B.
Then, things took an unexpected turn. Plan B suddenly didn’t seem so attainable. It definitely didn’t help that a pandemic broke out too. Within days, time had frozen still and that lead me to where I am today, 2 weeks later. By the way, I don’t have a Plan C. Being “in quarantine” has been easy since I started isolating months ago. What has been difficult is this feeling of being completely stagnant. Like purgatory with internet access and a kitten. I used to have this bright vision of the future, but now everything just looks black. There doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of this tunnel.
I’ve been in physically worse situations and I know that sometimes a storm can be a prelude to a beautiful blue sky, with a double rainbow peeking out of the clouds. I am also really proud of myself for staying in this boxing ring with depression and refusing to go down without my best fight. I like to imagine myself being a female Adonis Creed, fighting a giant (and not nearly as attractive) adversary in the final fight. Maybe God stopped the time to give me an opportunity to do something else? Maybe life is just being life and I’m overreacting? Maybe this situation was the push I needed to rekindle my flames for my original vision? Because I’ve certainly been back at the drawing board, spilling all of my best ideas. I’ve also been trying my best to practice daily gratitude, especially during these unstable times.
I think the hardest part of all of this lately has been that I don’t really feel like I can share my true feelings with anyone. At least when I was seeing my counselor, I could tell her everything. I just can’t seem to connect with anyone on the level that I’m aching to connect on. But at least I’ve still got this blog, right?