Journal Entry, May 19, 2013

Where to start?  “The beginning” is a nebulous place to start, but it’s the correct place to start which is what’s important here.  The last couple of weeks has been difficult.  I’m not sure if I’m starting to encounter burn-out or if I am experiencing something new in my adult life.  I’m finding that it’s harder to concentrate on things as time goes on without cutting-off stimulus from outside sources and focusing purely on the work that needs doing right in front of me.  Unfortunately, this generally means squirreling myself away in a lonely corner somewhere or putting on headphones and ignoring everything else, much to the chagrin of both my boyfriend as well as my coworkers.  I need to see a doctor about this and see if maybe this is related to my inability to sleep properly, or if this is just anxiety rearing its ugly head.

Spent the greater part of the last two weeks trying to remain on a schedule and stick to it without-fail, but I’ve encountered a pretty significant amount of difficulty when it comes to staying on that schedule/pattern.  I’ve been working hard to try and establish a schedule that works for me as well as accomplishes my own personal goals, and while it’s still in-flux, it seems to be working fairly well.  Unfortunately, it leaves little time for little dalliances such as reading or watching television.

In the recent past I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time in my own head, examining why I feel and react the way I do to some things, and having to physically “check” myself either by leaving the room or closing my eyes and breathing to be able to have a cogent thought about the situation, or even to acknowledge consciously that I am “triggered” and that it’s okay and I should explore it more to find its core.

There have been situations in the recent past between myself and my boyfriend that have tested my patience to the breaking-point and have forced me to start asking questions of myself that I thought had been long-since answered.  Questions such as “Am I really interested in a committed relationship”, “Does my life allow for a committed relatio)nship like this”, and “Are my goals at-odds with the overall goals of a relationship” (which, as I understand it, typically means settling down, getting a mortgage, and staying the same job for a decade or more).  In the past, I used to balk at the notion of settling-down in a single place for too long, but relatively recently I have thought about what the benefits and what my life would be like, finally settled-down in a place that I can call a home.  I haven’t had a home in many years, just a place I can rest my head and stow my gear.  To me, a home is not just a hearth and a warm bed, it’s a refuge.  A place where all the things that make life grind stop at the doorstep, and where I can sleep at night.  I’ve felt like I haven’t been able to find that place, as if it were just a myth or a legend that people told themselves and others about so that people would keep striving to try and find it… and I thought it was impossible for me.  At this point, I don’t know if it’s something I can find or something I can build.  I’ve always been afraid of finding or building it and something coming along and tearing it to pieces, like a wooden house under a maelstrom.  That’s why I’ve always been so careful about what I’ve done and what spaces I try to live out my life, because I don’t want to make a misstep and end-up ruining everything.  At the same time, that same behavior prevents me from going all-in and really reaping the benefits of committing, of being linked something strong and something as grounded as a home.  I always felt as if becoming attached to something would make it a liability or weakness, able to be exploited or extinguished on a moment’s notice… and I’m thinking that that in-and-of-itself is a weakness.

I’ve been highly-avoidant when it comes to deep intimacy, and I’ve been even more-so about what I really want out of my life, and for a very good reason: I don’t know what I want.  I don’t know how other people fit into my life.  I don’t know where I’m going to be in a few years or even what I’m going to be “doing”.  All I know is what I want to be doing right now, which is climbing my ass off, being fit as a fiddle, being a master of whatever my chosen field is (even if it’s just climbing), and not waking up every morning feeling like Atlas.  I don’t want to feel like my entire life is resting on my shoulders, and I most certainly don’t want to let anyone down or look like a fool… even though that’s exactly how I’ve looked to many an outside observer in the recent past.

I want to be able to grab my clothes, my shoes, and my climbing gear and be able to run off, climb, and travel on a moment’s notice.  I want to be able to take whatever skills I have and apply them wherever I happen to end-up.  I want to be able to put my head on a pillow at night and not have to worry about the next set of bills coming in the mail.  I have more to do in this life than what I’ve already done.  I’m 26 and I still haven’t been to a foreign country yet.  I’m failing at my own goals and dreams.

Or maybe I just need perspective.  Who knows?  I sure as hell don’t.

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