Taking a Stand

The last few months have been a cacophony of crazy. Battered, broken and bruised, my soul has limped through the monotonous minutiae of day to day, looking for answers, searching for something that I thought I used to know. Over the years, I have lost myself; lost myself in my friends, my family, my lovers, my enemies, my career and the idea of who I thought I was supposed to be. Along the way, I began to feed off and absorb the daily bombardment of the opinions of others to the point where now I can’t even make a decision about what my next meal should be.

Devoid of goals and aspirations which my former self was never short of, I took a hard look at the direction my life has taken and let’s just say 19-year-old Laura would be very disappointed in me. Not so much of the career choices I’ve made or life decisions that have left me looking like a dim reflection of who I thought 33-year-old me would be, but the loss of hope, the inability to see the light in the dark, and allowing the fear of the unknown cripple my sprit and paralyze my mind. Hyperventilating and sobbing I broke for the second time in my adult life, and once again I had to look hard in the mirror. I told my mother things I swore I would take to the grave things that I never thought I could say out loud without bursting into flames and afterward I was left not enlightened, alas, confused, anxious, and still felt on a island unto myself. Uncertain of what the future might hold, last week the answer was abruptly revealed to me, it was time to leave. 

After seeing and feeling that the love and dedication I had for the career I worked so hard to nurture and grow was bringing me nothing but pain, anxiety, and disrespect,  the final die was cast, leaving me, reluctantly, to close the book on that part of my journey. So with trepidation, I embark on the next steps of my life still anxious, afraid and unaware but with a sliver of hope that this detour is the first step towards who I actually am and my healing process can truly commence.