Skirting on the edge of normalcy, having endured and struggled through a most unexpected twist in my life’s path, I have turned inside out and emptied my contextualizing pockets of identity. How do I do this thing called living? My ego is scrambling, clutching at the fringes of what once was. Nothing fits the same anymore.
I am now the damn energizer bunny. Without all those chemicals dumped in my veins on a weekly basis, I am climbing higher and higher, each day finding the next footing. It takes flat out exhaustion to finally still me late at night. Part of this is the thrill of having energy, period. Part of this is feeling like I’ve missed out on so much already and I need to catch up. Part of this is feeling too cooped up for the last seven months, and finding it hard to be trapped indoors in the coldest part of this northeast winter. Yet, there is something more. I am trying to find my identity and my place in this world. Although I didn’t die, I still feel like a ghost. Does that make sense?
Having felt the full embrace of life’s impermanence and frailty, I feel that my former perception of reality was really through a distorted lens. Who has time to do anything that is not joyful and interesting? I don’t want to waste a single second doing anything that does not make my heart sing. Yet, I am a mom and a wife and I have bills to pay and laundry to fold and dishes to wash and emails to respond to. Most days I am too busy to really think about this thing that has me chasing my tail… my mind dragging my body along endless tasks. Most days I take pleasure in these mundane things, especially right now, just because I can do these things and participate in this thing called living. But what about Living with a capitol L?
What the hell just happened to me? I want to disassociate from this big dark thing that cast such a long shadow. I want to “get back to normal” but the truth is that I have changed. Who is this impostor, wearing my clothes and makeup?