What if I need to start from scratch? What if all that I have worked for and achieved is taken away? What if I choose to let it go? Because really, the choice is mine. What are the dangers of making myself comfortable with the fact that I may need to start my life from scratch? On the one hand I need to be prepared if it comes down to that. On the other, is it a self-fulfilling prophecy if I get comfortable with the idea? I’m 30 years old and I have two (amazing) kids. We own a nice house that can fit everyone for Christmas. We have a nice yard for our kids to run around. Our vegetable garden finally has more soil than rocks and things actually grow out of it. I have my tree swing. We finally bought a nice car. I like the life we've built; it’s taken us almost ten years to get to this point. The thought of giving it all up, starting over, makes me want to crawl onto my memory foam mattress and bit by bit be absorbed into it so that I’m fully cocooned inside. I already started my life, why do I have to start again? I want to cry and kick and scream and hold my breath until everything is magically better and just as it should be.
The hard part is accepting that maybe things are as they should be. Maybe I need to lose everything I have worked for so that I can achieve the life that is meant for me? I’m a strong believer in “everything happens for a reason.” I’ve made all my choices in life based on the best information I had available to me at the time. It’s looking like some have been, what some might call, “bad” decisions, but I think I’m on the path I’m supposed to be on. The path is bumpy as hell, twisty as shit, but it’s the path I’ve been given and I’ll be damned if I don’t make it to the end battered and bruised but stronger than I was when I started.
But right now? Right now I’m sitting off to the side of that path, nursing my wounds and looking for breadcrumbs. Why are there no breadcrumbs? How am I going to find my way? When are these wounds going to stop bleeding? I know they will leave scars. I can only pray that they are not permanently disfiguring, leaving me unable to rise above. But I won’t let that happen. I’m not a victim. I have choices. I will rise above and make my life what it’s capable of being. I don’t know what form that will take (it’s not a good view from the ditch I’m currently huddled in) and I’m more scared then I’ve ever been. But all of this will just make any future achievement even sweeter, right? RIGHT? (dear God, please tell me I’m right.)