Don't Borrow Trouble...or Stress, for that Matter!

Things are currently better for me than they’ve been at any point in the last year. The thing I was waiting on came through for me in the best way possible, and I’m now firmly on the path to wherever my new life is going to take me—with the tools to be successful every step of the way. More importantly, however, is the fact that I can actually see the damn road and even, if I squint my eyes, look up ahead into the future a bit. This, as anyone who has been reading this blog will know by now, is a huge relief for me. Gigantic. Epic, even.

If I needed any proof about how much happier my soul is when it has direction, I got it the first night after I heard my good news. I slept, through the night, without any artificial help, for the first time in almost 11 months. Then I did it again the next night. And the next. And the next. That’s right, my insomnia has disappeared into thin air. Poof!

It is amazing what a good night’s sleep will do for your outlook on life. I’d forgotten. But now that I’ve been reintroduced to the concept, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anything snatch it away from me again! Unfortunately, there are still one or two lingering things from my old life infringing on my ability to ride off into the rising sun of my new life. I’m headed in the right direction, but I have a couple of unwanted stowaways in my luggage. These stowaways seem determined to peck away at my fledgling happiness (I’m just full of metaphors today, folks!), and they might be successful—if they were dealing with the old me. But they’re not. They’re up against the new me, the one who has walked through hell (not a metaphor) and come out the other end alive. The new me is stronger, re-forged by adversity and misery and all the things that make you stronger if they don’t kill you.

Also, the new me has slept. Seriously, I can’t even tell you how glorious that is after all this time.

So, right, stowaways. They can take a hike. For the most part, they’re things I have very little control over at this point. So, why let them stress me out? Yes, I want them done and gone, but it’s just not happening right now. I’m not ignoring them; I’m quite aware of their presence. I’m simply choosing to keep them at arm’s length for the duration of their stay with me. Frankly, I’ve been through worse. It’s incredible the way my outlook on life’s struggles has shifted over the last year. I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot more to faze me from now on. Because after everything I’ve been through, it’s simply not worth it to take even one baby step back into the darkness. I know what’s back there, and it’s nothing good. These days, I’m all about the light. And the sleep.

Lesson of the Day: Step into the light. And get some sleep!

Clean Slate

I never, ever thought that I would be starting over at this stage of my life. I had it all figured out. Career, education, family…everything was lined up and a bright future was on the horizon. My goals, dreams, aspirations—all coming together.

Until, suddenly, they weren’t.

Nine months ago my life went to hell in the space of 24 hours, and I watched all my dreams, all my hopes for my life, collapse around me. I was devastated. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the day, much less a week, or a month, or the indefinite amount of time it was going to take to come up with an entirely new future for myself. It seemed impossible. And, in those first dark months, I wasn’t sure I even had enough left in me to try.

But human nature is a powerful thing, and it has always been my nature to persevere. So, that’s what I did. Through the horrible days and the unbearable nights, through hours when I felt so alone I could only curl up on the floor and cry, through minutes when it literally felt like my heart was tearing its way through my chest because even it couldn’t take the pain anymore…I stuck it out. It wasn’t always pretty, and it sure as hell wasn’t easy, and some days I spent every second clawing my way to a goal I couldn’t even visualize yet, but here I am. I may not be whole, but I managed to hold on to all the pieces I need to put myself back together. I may have scars, but that only means that the wounds are healing. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe myself as naïve again, but knowledge is, and always has been, power.

So here I sit, situations finally resolved, endings finally written, and a blank slate before me. It’s a tiring thought, that I now have to rewrite the story of my future—luckily, stories are kind of my thing. The Reinvention Project is nowhere complete, but I can now add the element of freedom to my quest. No longer tied to my past, there’s nothing holding me back. It’s scary, but I’ve always enjoyed a challenge. The possibilities are limitless; with no one and nothing else to take into consideration, I can, quite seriously, do whatever I want with my life. I have never been in this position before, and I’m looking forward to seeing what I come up with.

I’m still weary, I’m still sad, I’m still healing—but with the last nine months as proof that I can get through anything, I have hope. And hope, as Pandora will tell you, can make all the difference in the world. It’s time to pick up my pen and get to work.

Lesson of the Day: It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life.

Time for a Change

It has been nearly four months since I started The Reinvention Project. It seems like such a short amount of time, and in the grand scheme of what I'm trying to accomplish I suppose it is. Still, I can say quite confidently that, for all the potholes (and sometimes craters) I've encountered so far, I have made progress along the road I chose on New Year's Eve.

I want to take the opportunity to thank everyone who has come across this humble blog. When I began I wasn't sure if anyone besides a few friends would check it out, and I never cease to be amazed (and thrilled!) when yet another follower signs on, another comment hits my inbox, or another word of encouragement comes to me from across the country. I have solid evidence that the Project is doing exactly what I dared hope it would do: making a difference. It may be a small difference, and it may be a few people, but to hear even one person say they have been bolstered by my words makes me feel like everything I'm going through can be given a positive purpose. That feeling, for me, is its own form of therapy.

I have, as Robert Frost put so eloquently, "miles to go before I sleep." But thanks to this blog, and everyone who’s taken the time to share it with me, I no longer feel like I'm traveling that road alone.

Lesson of the Day: We’re never as alone as we think we are.

Sorting Out My Priorities

It has been, to put it mildly, a rough few weeks. A lot of that waiting I talked about a few posts ago took a giant step forward, and instead of being relieved I found myself relapsing into a depressive episode on a level I honestly thought I was beyond. So, I can now personally attest to another truth about depression: it is entirely possible to experience a relapse. (For more information on depression, see my January 28, 2010 post, Taking Down Depression.) No wonder it’s known to be such an insidious illness.

At any rate, there has been a lot of “just making it through” going on, and that hasn’t left me with either the energy or desire for much of anything else. The tactics I’ve been using for the last six months to keep my head on straight aren’t as effective as they used to be. My patience for all this *waves arms around wildly* is waning. It’s time to step up The Reinvention Project. I’ve decided to try to think a bit further into the future; to look to the ever-nebulous “other side” I will supposedly come out on when everything making my life a whirlwind of discontent finally resolves itself. If I can visualize this new life of mine, maybe it will be easier to hold out for it. To that end, I decided to make a list.

I jumped on to http://www.tadalist.com/, a lovely website devoted to list-making, and created the following:

Adventures for 2010
~ hot air balloon ride
~ skydiving on my birthday
~ hiking to waterfalls in the spring
~ run three 5Ks
~ join a writers group

The first three items are things I’ve been dying to do for years, and the opportunities just didn’t present themselves in my old life (I have a specific state park in mind for the hiking). The last two items are geared towards personal improvement for the benefit of my new life. The important thing about this list is that each thing is completely do-able this year. Only the first two items cost any significant amount of money, and neither cost is prohibitive.

One of the facets of my new life that I’m most eager to incorporate is not waiting so long to do the things I truly want to do. One of the hard lessons I’ve learned is that life is unpredictable. You can have it all planned out one day, and not know which way is up the next. Life itself will get in the way of you doing any actual living if you let it. As I am rebuilding from the ground up, now seems like the perfect time to make sure that doesn’t happen anymore. The things I want to do, the adventures I want to have, are going to take a much higher priority in my new life. That knowledge is getting me through when other distractions fail.

The above list-in-progress will seem inane to most people, I imagine. Plenty of people couldn’t care less about waterfalls, and relatively few have the urge to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. But are you prepared to deny that you have such a list in the back of your mind? If you sat down right now with a pen and paper, what small things have you been dying to do, or try, or see, that you keep putting off? Forget about expensive dream vacations (Rome is on my personal long-term wish list) or the desire to change careers. Think smaller. Is there a play you want to see? A favorite band in concert? Have you always wanted to try a particular craft? Maybe you have a secret desire to try an online computer game. Or go to a tasting at a local winery.

You think about these things from time to time, and each time you think to yourself, “Someday soon I’m actually going to make this happen. Maybe next month. Maybe next year.” But soon never seems to arrive, and the months pass, and the years pass, and life gets in the way of all your best intentions. It happens to us all. My list has been with me for years. But you know what? Six months ago that list was longer. I’ve already begun to check things off. And each checkmark is another completion of something important to me. Something that makes my life richer, more colorful. And isn’t that the point of life, after all? To live it?

Lesson of the Day: Life is for living. Make it happen.

I Get By With a Little Help from My Friends

Want to know who your real friends are? Place yourself in the middle of a life in utter ruins, and see who comes to help you pick up the pieces. You might be surprised.

I have been incredibly fortunate to have had a fantastic and unfailing support system throughout the various disasters in my life over the last several months. My family, of course, rallied immediately, doing that familial thing they’ve always done so well. Their loyalty and support was never even a question. Other, non-family people, however, have stepped gracefully into my life to help keep the few columns that remain from crashing down on top of me. This phenomenon is what I focus on daily, to remind myself that I have more people who think I’m worth supporting, worth befriending, worth including in their lives, than I ever knew.

Some of these saviors were already established in my life as co-workers, acquaintances, and friends who I saw “once in a while.” They heard about what was going on and took it upon themselves to become more than once-a-month friends, contacting me through various outlets to ask how I was doing, if there was anything they could do to help, if I needed to talk or wanted to hang out. These gestures were not a one-time occurrence; they began happening routinely and continue to this moment. These are busy, busy people, with families and lives and trials of their own, and I can’t imagine when they have the time to think of me—but they do.

Others are people who I was once friends with, perhaps even good friends, but time being what it is, we slipped away from each other. Ironically, the very events conspiring to cause such strife in my life were the same events that led me back to these once-and-future friends. Through the magic of 21st-century social media, they saw that I seemed to be having trouble and decided to reach out to me. As it turns out, several of them were having (or were just coming out of) similar troubles, and could not only sympathize, but empathize. They say pain shared is pain halved, and these wonderful people knew that, and endeavored to show me that I was not alone. These are the voices who stay up with me late into the night when I can’t sleep (which is often), companions to my chronic insomnia. The nights are the worst. These people get me through them.

Still others are good friends who have gone so far above and beyond that I can only hold them up as shining examples of what true friendship is—and hope that I have been as a good a presence in their lives as they have been in mine.

Words cannot express what these people mean to me, or what they’ve done for me. There have been days when a well-timed Facebook message or a random phone call has, quite seriously, been all that stood between my fragile psyche and a padded room. Being reminded that there are people in the world who don’t have to care about me but do anyway, just because I’m me, has done more to help me begin this journey to reinvention than all the inner strength I could ever conjure up. It’s true that most days I do this for myself, because I want to come out of this a better, stronger person, because I refuse to let anything get the best of me. But some days, the ones when I look at myself in the mirror and can’t conjure up the desire to try for myself alone—those are the days I remember all the people who’ve shown me that they think I’m worth keeping around. I lock their faces in my mind, stand up straight, and try anyway.

Lesson of the Day: Pick up the phone, log on to Facebook, send an e-mail, tweet away—the message you send may have more of an impact than you could possibly imagine.

The Genesis of The Reinvention Project

Sometimes life, for better or worse, presents us with the chance to change some aspect of our lives or our selves. Whether we have chosen the circumstances or had them thrust upon us, the opportunity is there for the taking—the question becomes, then: what will we do about it? I find myself searching for the answer to this very question after a recent series of events has left me standing amidst the ruins of a life that, quite suddenly and painfully, has ceased to exist.

As a new year approaches, I find the theme of new beginnings more apt than ever before. The path of my old life is ended; the path of my new life is undetermined. I stand at a place I never thought I’d be again: square one. My questions far outweigh my answers: Do I have the strength for this? Who am I? Who do I want to be? What do I want out of this new life? What should I attempt to salvage from my old life? What should I let go? What will the end result look like?

More important than any of these questions, however, is this: what can I learn from this experience? Empty pain is destructive; pain that leads to meaning, however—that is my goal.

Thus, The Reinvention Project is born.

How many people are in the same position I’m in? Faced with having to start over, to rebuild after the end of a life they would have happily continued living forever? How many people are wishing they could change something about themselves, or about their lives, but don’t feel they have the strength or resources to do so? How many people have finally decided to make a change or two, but feel overwhelmed or alone in their quest? They say there’s nothing new under the sun—I plan to add my voice to the masses.

Through this blog, I plan to chronicle my journey to a new life. I’ll post all that I learn in the hopes that someone, somewhere, will be able to take what I discover and use it to improve their own lives. If even a single person can use a single sentence to take a single step towards being happier, I will consider my journey a worthwhile endeavor.

It’s a new year—and my one resolution is to make it count.