Friday, November 20, 2015
Something unexpected happened yesterday. And it has me wondering about the full range of future possibilities that I could allow myself to realistically explore.
I logged into my LinkedIn profile and discovered someone from the Monterey Bay area of California had recently looked at my profile. When I reviewed this individual's profile I found my interest piqued. I actually began having a fantasy of getting a job with the organization this person works for. And suddenly I found myself imagining living in California once more.
It's not an understatement for me to claim that these last few years of my life have been profoundly transformational. I feel very different (and much healthier) as compared to how I felt over four years ago when I left California upon completing graduate school. I wish I had known about EMDR therapy earlier in my life history. Had I known about this powerful therapeutic tool I might have made better choices earlier in my life. I might have found and sustained a measure of vitality in my life many years sooner. I might be "more" successful in my professional life than I am now. I put the word 'more' in quotes because it would be untrue to state I am not successful now. I have created a measure of success in my life thus far. But I want more.
I will state that again: I want more. And I not only want more but I feel I genuinely need more. I feel that I need more of so many things. I need more love. I need more friendship. I need more intimacy. I need more fun. I need more exuberance. I need more of the fundamental elements necessary to create a vital and rewarding life.
The question that stands before me so often now is a question of how I can attend to the grief and sadness that I still feel so often. Such heaviness does not characterize my life on a daily basis. But I am nonetheless often aware of a heaviness within me borne of the extensive suffering and feelings of fear and anxiety I experienced so often when I was a small child. This pervasive fear and anxiety persisted for years. I simply became unconscious of the depth of my suffering because being conscious of it on a daily basis was simply too overwhelming. I developed a capacity for intensive dissociation as a way of dealing with the anxiety and fear I felt on a regular basis. June, 2013 marked a time when the immense amount of unacknowledged suffering and inner turmoil I had long carried finally erupted into my conscious world. I felt completely blindsided during that time. I felt devastated for many months. It was scary.
Nearly two and a half years have passed since that difficult time. My life is fairly serene now. I have a network of friends and others who provide me valuable support. I have a day job I enjoy. I have other interests I pursue as well. I am pondering what I will do in my future professional life. I am actively networking to learn more about what suitable opportunities may be open to me. In short, my life is quite good now.
But that sadness still resides in my heart. It is a sadness borne of living many, many years in such a manner that my capacity to fully experience the present moment was at least somewhat compromised. My sadness does not define me. Indeed, even on a bad day the sadness I carry feels nothing like it did as recently as six months ago. In a similar manner my 2013 diagnosis of PTSD does not define me either. The horrible events of my childhood do not define me either. I can move forward and I can transcend the obstacles I had to overcome.
I feel an excitement about my future I have not always felt. I believe 2016 and beyond may yet prove to be the best years of my life. I certainly intend to make every effort to realize this vision for myself. And I am going to continue to pray for guidance and support as I make my journey forward.
Something unexpected happened yesterday. And it has me wondering about the full range of future possibilities that I could allow myself to realistically explore.
I logged into my LinkedIn profile and discovered someone from the Monterey Bay area of California had recently looked at my profile. When I reviewed this individual's profile I found my interest piqued. I actually began having a fantasy of getting a job with the organization this person works for. And suddenly I found myself imagining living in California once more.
It's not an understatement for me to claim that these last few years of my life have been profoundly transformational. I feel very different (and much healthier) as compared to how I felt over four years ago when I left California upon completing graduate school. I wish I had known about EMDR therapy earlier in my life history. Had I known about this powerful therapeutic tool I might have made better choices earlier in my life. I might have found and sustained a measure of vitality in my life many years sooner. I might be "more" successful in my professional life than I am now. I put the word 'more' in quotes because it would be untrue to state I am not successful now. I have created a measure of success in my life thus far. But I want more.
I will state that again: I want more. And I not only want more but I feel I genuinely need more. I feel that I need more of so many things. I need more love. I need more friendship. I need more intimacy. I need more fun. I need more exuberance. I need more of the fundamental elements necessary to create a vital and rewarding life.
The question that stands before me so often now is a question of how I can attend to the grief and sadness that I still feel so often. Such heaviness does not characterize my life on a daily basis. But I am nonetheless often aware of a heaviness within me borne of the extensive suffering and feelings of fear and anxiety I experienced so often when I was a small child. This pervasive fear and anxiety persisted for years. I simply became unconscious of the depth of my suffering because being conscious of it on a daily basis was simply too overwhelming. I developed a capacity for intensive dissociation as a way of dealing with the anxiety and fear I felt on a regular basis. June, 2013 marked a time when the immense amount of unacknowledged suffering and inner turmoil I had long carried finally erupted into my conscious world. I felt completely blindsided during that time. I felt devastated for many months. It was scary.
Nearly two and a half years have passed since that difficult time. My life is fairly serene now. I have a network of friends and others who provide me valuable support. I have a day job I enjoy. I have other interests I pursue as well. I am pondering what I will do in my future professional life. I am actively networking to learn more about what suitable opportunities may be open to me. In short, my life is quite good now.
But that sadness still resides in my heart. It is a sadness borne of living many, many years in such a manner that my capacity to fully experience the present moment was at least somewhat compromised. My sadness does not define me. Indeed, even on a bad day the sadness I carry feels nothing like it did as recently as six months ago. In a similar manner my 2013 diagnosis of PTSD does not define me either. The horrible events of my childhood do not define me either. I can move forward and I can transcend the obstacles I had to overcome.
I feel an excitement about my future I have not always felt. I believe 2016 and beyond may yet prove to be the best years of my life. I certainly intend to make every effort to realize this vision for myself. And I am going to continue to pray for guidance and support as I make my journey forward.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I invite you to accompany me as I document my own journey of healing. My blog is designed to offer inspiration and solace to others. If you find it of value I welcome you to share it with others. Aloha!