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Sunday, December 14, 2014

Carrie On? More Like Carrie Off.

I have hardly written at all in the past two years. When I write, I have to be honest, and honestly, I don't want to have to face the things I'm feeling.  I don't want to write about being sad; I've cried too many tears already.  I don't want to write about be angry; I try to rise above that anger.  I don't want to write about being happy; Happiness feels like a betrayal of someone long gone.  But honestly? Honestly I'm feeling all of those things anyway, so what will writing about them hurt?



The hardest truth is, the life I'm living now doesn't inspire me the way my old life did.  I don't feel the same pull to tell my readers/friends/family about my adventures. (And yes, there have been adventures.) Each time I sit down to write, or when I meet a stranger, I find myself wanting to share my old story, instead of my new one. That version of myself rings true in a way that this version does not. But surely, two years after the wreckage has been cleared, wanting to share that part of my life is wrong. So, more often that not, I remain silent. I try to bury the past with new memories and experiences. But it's been two years, and that just isn't working. I can't put the past to rest just yet, and I'm tired of trying to cover it up.

Don't get me wrong.  I am so proud of what I have accomplished.  In two years I have transformed my situation.  I was dropped back in my hometown with nothing but a car and $50.  I was quite literally homeless and at the mercy of friends and family.  And now?  Now I have a wonderful career, amazing friends, and the most incredible boyfriend a girl could want.  I'm financially stable, constantly engaged in community and personal events, and still traveling as much as I can.  But none of that makes me as excited as I used to be.

I feel...numb.  Completely and utterly numb toward my new life. I think I thought that if I kept my head down and kept pushing ahead, I'd eventually outrun my past. I think I was wrong. The faster I run from the sad, abandoned housewife I used to be, the more bitter and withdrawn I become. The less I feel genuine emotion.  The less I can look ahead and see a bright future.

How do I do this?  How do I mourn something long gone, and still move forward? How do I miss one life without belittling the other?

This is what scares me the most:  I look in the mirror, and I don't recognize who I have become.  I don't see any hope left burning behind my eyes. I feel like somewhere on this path, I flipped off the switch to my soul, but didn't notice until it was too late. Now I'm fumbling in the dark, trying to find that switch again...but I'm half hoping that it's lost. After all, if I don't feel anything, I can't feel hurt.

But that's not who I want to be. That isn't the sort of life I believe in living. I am more than bitter. I am more than broken. I will not live and breathe and die a cautionary tale. I can do this. I just don't know how yet.

3 comments:

  1. Carrie, you're farther ahead than your realize; you took an important step and wrote authentically. I too have shied away from writing while in the throes of personal chaos. My written journals have several 2-year gaps. But I have been following you since your first post and have witnessed how your life has influenced your writing. You are afterall, a writer. And when you are writing, you are living, and sharing your truth. You are just finding your way back to your authentic self. Keep writing Carrie. It's who you are. Lyn

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  2. "The hardest truth is, the life I'm living now doesn't inspire me the way my old life did."

    It shows, pal. You used to write like a poet, lyrically and full of wonder. Something's changed.

    But as Lyn says, you are a writer. Such trials and tribulations may seem like bitter fodder for the soul, but they are solid gold for prose, and it is through prose that we are redeemed. Perhaps if you push yourself to pick up that pen (or take up that keyboard) and keep chronicling, the pain will be exorcised. It's natural to feel directionless and emotionally cautious after what you went through, and by all means, sop your heart and brains and innards in it. But keep writing. And remember that some of us out here in the blogsphere (blogosphere?) miss you when you're gone.

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  3. to echo what has already been said, you're a writer, carrie, and i think you can find yourself in your words if you just get them out. also, we have missed you here in the blogging world.

    as for outrunning your past, i have personally never been able to do that. it sounds like you are trying to step around things instead of just going through them, and while i know people that this has worked for, i have never been one of them. when i feel like my boat is sinking, i usually drop pieces of myself to lessen the load just to make sure i stay afloat long enough to get to shore. i tell myself that i'll pick up those dropped pieces down the road, maybe get new ones, but i never do. i've found that, for me, the only way to get back to myself is to go back to sea and try and salvage the waterlogged pieces that make me me. i usually do this by writing. and sometimes self-indulgent wallowing. i go back to things that i should be over and i go through them instead of around them. i write letters to people that i haven't spoken to in years and write down memories that i am told i shouldn't remember. i allow myself to experience things that i tried not to the first time around because i was so busy just trying to get past it. i found that that's what works for me.

    it sounds like there is also this tension between your "old" life and your "new" one, when in reality, it's all your life. you lived almost two years scaling castles and seeing the world, and if you want to talk about that time, i say talk about it. there are probably some great stories in there. it doesn't have to take anything away from where you are in your life right now. you have taken incredible strides forward. if you don't want to talk about it with people, write it all out. write a memoir or turn it into a novel. no one ever has to read it but you, and who knows, maybe it will turn into this amazing published book that makes you a famous author.

    i hope you find what works for you and do it. i hope you find your inspiration and switch your soul back on. we're all rooting for you and genuinely impressed with how far you've already gotten.

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