…or something like that.
The past couple of weeks can be characterized as overwhelming (which I can finally admit). I’ve broken out in hives a
couple of few times, am unable to sleep, and seem to have a constant headache. The times when I’m least stressed are when I’m out riding on my bike, focusing solely on enjoying the ride and the beauty of nature. After riding I’m always headache free for a bit and able to dig up the happy-go-lucky part of me that’s been absent for far too long, however within hours everything comes back.
And I’m not even sure I know what everything is.
There’s the disappointment that I wake up with (life fail), along with everything that accompanies that (guilt, confusion, etc.), followed by the disappointment in myself for letting the former disappointment have such a hold on me.
There’s this search and everything that it means to me; there’s a lot at stake. What if I can’t find my biological parents and never find that feeling? What if I never resolve things? What if I can’t even make it to Korea because of the fear that it might be too much to take in alone? I can’t imagine having to be in such an emotional place, physically and mentally, being surrounded by strangers who want to relate and be vulnerable with one another, yet wanting nothing to do with that. Given my trust issues, I’d much rather be alone, than alone in a group where I shouldn’t feel alone– think of the whole ‘have you ever felt alone in a crowded room’ overused pop-song lyric– as that would only point towards my own flaws. And of course, it would be hard having to hold such a facade for a couple of weeks, so I’m sure I’d start blocking and not really experiencing.
There’s the growing list of things that are wrong with me and need to be fixed, the latest of which was realizing that I don’t let anyone get close to me (although there have been recent exceptions, which I feel were a little out of my control). I don’t have a problem with genuinely loving and knowing people, but I don’t have the capacity to be loved or known. It’s just really uncomfortable. If my life were a puzzle, then the broken parts are the pieces which have been torn apart, and rather than fixing them, I’m just haphazardly trying to shove the pieces somewhere, anywhere, regardless of if they fit or not, forever leaving a less-than-perfect puzzle.
There’s all of the internal contradictions– openness versus closedness, living intentionally versus living in fear, value of relationships versus denying fundamental relationships, and so forth– all of which leave me questioning my self and authenticity, which I find particularly troubling.
There’s the holiday season and all of the inadequacy, guilt, tension, and conflict to be felt.
These are the main contributors to everything, however I’m sure there are a lot more at work that I either 1) don’t realize or 2) won’t let myself realize.