Transition: A Period of Rediscovery

It's been a bit since I've shared insights into my life through blogging. I've been silently (or as silently as an over-sharer can be) going through the motions of this period, sorting through a convoluted series of thoughts. Perhaps the most prevalent is that I am not special, so why would I share? I've lost a bit of my way. I've had to re-organize where I really want to be, what, and who I am. Not an uncommon pattern for me, but I think introspection has been at its strongest in the latest months. I silently went through a birthday, in which only four people outside of my family noticed. I've retreated from passions, because I had lost the good parts of myself in them. And so here I sit, in this period of transition, waiting to rediscover my pulse.

Tracing the makings of Jillanne

I finally willed myself to read again in September. I haven't picked up a book for pure leisure in about five years. I had turned to other creative outlets, but the ability to imagine from words on paper is a pure innocence that I had forgotten. I first learned to read when I was 3 years old, and wrote my first 30 paged book at the age of 8. I continued to write, but no writer can exist without appreciating the written prose of others. So I built a little library for my front lawn, and it still took three months to pick a book from inside of it. I read the book in two days flat, and I now have three more that sit on my shelf. It's felt good to re-trace my steps and get in touch with the first source of creativity I've known.

Purification

I also decided to go on a rampage of plant hoarding. I have a 9 foot tree in my living room, and added two more plants a week later. I've cleaned out and reorganized my home, getting rid of (some, but not all) the junk I've been holding onto. I believe clutter is a sign of depression - a sign of the inability to rid yourself of the stress and chaos that builds. Slowly, the clutter will become less, and I will be able to purify my house and my mind.

Relaxation

This one is a hard one for me. For the first time in five years, I've given myself the freedom to have zero obligations in my evenings and weekends. Sure, there will still be plans I've made for some weekends, but I have worked to silence those voices that chant "do something" at the end of my day. I can choose to do something, or do nothing. Doing nothing is the hardest - but most necessary - thing to do.

Therapy saves minds

It took a very long time for me to open myself to therapy. Some days, I don't need therapy. Some days, I just want to talk about my day, and I know that there's somebody there to listen. Some days, a suppressed memory hits me, and I need insight on it from somebody unbiased, who doesn't invest their emotions in me. I found a way to talk to a person through texting on a phone application, and it's helped me slow my brain down. My thoughts are not mine to burden all on my own anymore, although I continue to work through them; now, I have a toolbox to help me in that journey.

Reflection is the key to re-rooting your feet in the direction you want to be. At some point, I stopped thinking about who I want to be, and stopped believing it was achievable. However, the only place to get somewhere is to start by putting one foot in front of the other. If I happen to only make it 3/4 of the way, then I guess I'll get my exercise.