Taking Inventory

So, a lot of the dust has seemed to settle *knocks on wood*. I mean, whatever that means, you know. I feel better. I feel more like myself. I would even dare to say I feel more in control, although I know that is far from the point. 

I liken this time to the end of an earthquake. After everything around me shook, and shook me, everything is everywhere; things have fallen from high shelves and cabinets, everything is sprawled out in front of me. So, what do we do now? From this vantage point, standing above all of my items, I can see what’s broken, what I thought was lost, and most importantly, what, of all these items, I am choosing to keep. 

The first thing I see is some gentleness that I recently created. This year, I learned that rigidity isn’t gentle. If I hold myself to one version of me and shame myself for all others, that’s not an act of kindness. So, I’m choosing to take this gentleness with me, and affirm that I deserve to be treated gently. I can’t ask that of others without providing it for myself. 

Next, my eyes catch sight of some perspective. This year, I gained a perspective that I’ve never had that I hope will keep me being gentle to myself and to everyone I come across. Even though I’ve technically dealt with depression since I was 14, I’d always been dealing with versions of it that, compared to this year’s, felt very mild. This year, I was humbled. 

I experienced, first hand, what debilitating depression can be like. I wanted to punch all the countless versions of me who had told someone, “just find something to be grateful for” or “chin up, you can always choose joy.” Like, girl, are you kidding?? I forgive those versions of me, don’t get me wrong, but I’m glad she got to learn this lesson. Even though it was definitely the hard way. 

I keep scanning the items beneath me when I find some flow. Some looseness. I desperately needed to loosen my grip. I had to understand that I’m not always going to be the person with the pristine morning routine, and on the days that I don’t, I’m still able to be okay. I’m still worthy of being okay. 

The next thing I quickly scoop up is acceptance of all of my emotional spaces. This year, I learned just how deep rooted some of my beliefs about my emotions were, and how those beliefs contributed to unhealthy processing, or no processing at all, of those emotions. I was taught, somewhere down the line, that there was no space for my big emotions. Over time, that thought evolved into thinking that my emotions made me weak. 

This year, I learned the strength it takes to face and process the emotions that come up for me. I am choosing, moving forward, to take my acceptance of my emotions, and the strength it takes to make room for them. 

Peering up at me, from underneath pieces of broken items, I see something that I really want to keep. This year, I accepted that I am more than a 9 to 5. This was hard, it still is. I saw how much of my identity was wrapped in my job, and without it, I began to spiral. I didn’t know who I was, what I had to contribute. Now, I am reminded of all the creating I’ve always done, and even when those creations don’t yield the result of a salary, they are still worthy. I am still worthy. 

I don’t know if this means I’ll never work a 9 to 5 again, but I have a new sense of detachment to it. I’ve reinvigorated my belief in myself, in what I want to do, and what I know I can do. So, this shift in mindset is for sure a keeper. 

The last thing I’ll take before I leave this all behind, is my overall shift in what it means to live healthily. For the first time in a long time, ever really, I aspire to have true balance. I know that my indulgent tendencies came from a space of emptiness, and I have the awareness and skills to keep myself filled. I don’t have to cling to short term gratification. I find satisfaction at every corner of this life, when I choose to look for it. 

As I sit here, taking inventory of what this year has been; what I’m taking with me, and what I’m choosing to let go of, I can’t help but to feel great gratitude. I know how cliché it sounds, but it’s true. Hindsight really is 20/20, and looking back on this year is tough, but it all feels like it has purpose. 

I want to thank this year, as it’s heading out, for aiding and pushing me to find more of myself. I’m connected in new ways, and I don’t know that that would have happened without this year’s challenges. So, as much as I’m not sad to see it go, as shitty as it truly was, I am thankful. Cheers to the year that brought me closer to me.