Surfacing After Silence

Life. After.

Identity Post Number 1,233,459


Tales-of-mere-Existence-Who-the-Hell-Am-I-by-Levni-Yilmaz

I’ve addressed this issue many times on this blog.  I honestly thought that once I figured it all out, I would know who I am and that would be that.  Searching over.  Questions no more.  But if I have learned one thing in my journey it’s that the self is not this static thing we label one day and just stick in our pockets to keep.  The self, I believe, is constantly changing.  Evolving.  (I have no research or scientific wisdom to support this statement.  Although, now I do feel like a little research . . .)

But as I was walking over the weekend, I was thinking about who I am.  I realized I didn’t have an answer.  I know who I used to be, and I know who I wanted to be. 

I was a successful doctoral candidate who taught part-time at a local community college. I was working on my writing and was successful in seeing a couple essays published.  I knew what I wanted to accomplish as far as a book was concerned.  I considered myself kick ass strong for recovering from anorexia and for not letting the news about my cardiac state completely bowl me over.  I was a Christian who was learning about Buddhist principles and practices and was starting my own meditation practice.  I loved to read, write, knit, paint, and play the piano.  I loved coffee shops, both with friends and by myself.  I had goals I wanted to achieve and plans on how to get there.  I thought I would be a successful writer, a tenured professor, and active in my community.

I did not expect to be 37 and living with my parents and not working at all. Forget the tenure track positions.  I’m not a successful writer.  And I’m too anxious to be active in my community right now.  I still read.  I can’t remember the last time I used my creative energy for something beyond Facebook and my journal. 

Who the hell am I?  I’m someone who would easily be able to sleep all day.  I’m someone who doesn’t feel like doing most anything.  I am reliant on other people for all my needs.  I am “a contributing member of society.”  I sit down to write and nothing is there.  I feel like the people who could help me with this are all back in MO and I’m not able to contact them, and I’m not settled enough in NY to have built up a reliable treatment team that I fully trust.  (I mean, I haven’t even been here three months, and trust isn’t exactly something I just pluck off of a tree.)

And I guess I wish I had the answer.  The solution.  I am using Rick Warren’s What on Earth Am I Here For? as a devotional.  My meditation practice is starting to find a place in my daily life again.  And I’m doing everything I know how to do to “get better.”  It would just be a whole lot easier if I could do that today. 

But I guess I am in a period of change and evolution and growth.  And while it is not comfortable, it is necessary.  What I need to do is remember to keep breathing and remember to keep myself open to the world around me.  And remember to not try to force the direction I am going or how I am going to get there.

 

*****I would also like to encourage questions, or ideas for future entries.  Leave them in a comment or message me.*****

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August 28, 2014 - Posted by | addictions, bipolar disorder, coping, depression, Eating Disorders, faith, feelings, heart, identity, mindfulness, progress, recovery, therapy

1 Comment »

  1. Great post! Thanks for sharing. I have definitely felt this way in the past and I completely agree that “the self is not this static thing…” We are constantly changing and growing! ❤️

    Comment by Musia Wilhelm | August 28, 2014 | Reply


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