Nah, I’m not me. Not me at all.

Is the COMEBACK always better after the SETBACK(S)? 

Man, I sure hope so. I’ve heard this saying before. In fact, I’ve given this advice many times without experiencing a true set-back myself. 

But now, after the last 2 months I’ve had- I feel my advice for shit-situations is much more valid- ’cause shit situations have been flung at me from every direction lately and I am here to try and make sense of it all while letting ya’ll know I FEEL YOU, SISTER.

I’ve consistently been in a position of push back, more than that portrayed in my highlight circles or insta-moments in squares, and now the trudge to move forward is feeling slow paced. Two steps ahead, eight back: leaving me wondering how many times I can possibly put one foot in front of the other before something else sends me on my ass. Timid, short-tempered, and constantly tiptoeing through this shit-storm. I’m not me. Not me at all. 

For once in my adult life, my personal development tools and self-coaching are not sending me into a mania of perfectionism and motivation. What is up with this quicksand full of resistant energy I am pushing through? I am a fast-paced bitch who’s been harnessed and leashed as I attempt my regular walk through life. The energy of winter, shit weather, frustrations and bad-luck is stalling me. The Universe is telling me “slow your roll, girlfriend”: but slowing down enough to sit in misery is much more difficult than dusting it under the carpeted area and attempting to resume my previous programming. It’s like I refuse to sit in darkness, and yet become flustered when I don’t see the light.

Chocolate and cheese seems to taste better, movies are more appealing, my couch is softer, my bed is warmer, my eyes are heavier, my workouts are slower, my gratitude list is shorter, the darkness of December is a perfect crutch as to why I’d rather not leave my house and my routine is full of hiccups and lack of consistency. 

Who is this woman? An unfamiliar self. My grieving self, my questioning-the-world self. She’s not me. Nah. Not me at all. 

I am “supposed” to be a woman of drive, of discipline, of passion and enthusiasm. I am “supposed” to be a woman of resiliency and persistence, of goals and forward-moving motions. I am “supposed” to check-the-list off, follow the to-do’s and bow gracefully at the end when my list of accomplishments pan out perfectly.

But lately, I am a woman of grief, of smiles on the outside, of sad songs in the back of my mind and an unrelenting desire to avoid social situations. I am a hideout, lights out, laundry on the floor and hair in a pony for the third day in a row woman. I am a “mark-as-unread-I’ll-do-it-later” and “there is nothing for dinner” kind of woman. I am a scroll-until-midnight and click snooze 5x kind of woman. 

I’m not me. Nah, not me at all. 

I recently expressed these feelings of slow moving motion outwardly to friends and received the response “Wow. ASHLYN IS HUMAN”– perhaps the trigger point in me deciding to share these demotivated details with my online audience. 

It’s as if I expected I could have my world chewed up and spit out into a million differently shaped pieces without humanity kicking in to reserve me the space and time to recollect it all.  The world is telling me to push pause and yet pausing feels more unfamiliar than pushing through. My world has turned into alphagetty soup spilled on the floor and here I am trying to make sense of it all.

I promised to be “Authentically Ashlyn” and this downward spiral of frustration with the world is a piece of that. I am here professing the lack-of-positivity and resistance I am feeling lately ’cause it’s what I am able to conjure up right now. A derivative of my typical blissful approach. 

But this really is not me, not me at all. This identity crisis of grief paralleled with mindset management and motivation is fucking with my groove as a human. My answer when dealing with life’s mishaps: put the shit into words and throw it out to the world so ya’ll can join along in my struggles and relate in some way. 

So, friends, believe it: I struggle. I am struggling (current tense) and I am most certainly human. If being human means finally realizing life isn’t fair and that you can’t always get what you want and that plans don’t always work out the way you intended, and that you can check all the boxes every time and do everything right, and yet some things are just still out of your A-Type’d control: then yes, I am most certainly human. And guess what? humanity blows. Take me back to la-la-land full of rainbows and unicorn kisses. I like me better with my head in the clouds.

I guess I’ve found I don’t always have to love 5AM wake up calls and HIIT sprints before work. I don’t always have to eat salads and read books and listen to podcasts and sit upright and chipper for 8 hours at my desk with a smile. I’ve found I don’t always have the answer and I sure as shit don’t always feel self-assured. This new matured, salty and skeptical version of myself is unrecognizable to me. For a chick who preaches solid self-awareness- this lack of solitude in who I am is killing me.  

I also DO understand the necessity of continuing to move forward despite my mental hesitations. I am grounded in logic enough to know I’ll get through things if refuse to quit. I know the grass is greener where you water it and I plan on watering the shit out of my life until the greenery blossoms again. A little sunshine would helpful. A little good-luck could suffice.

I also DO understand it’s OK to pause. It’s OK to place new priorities on the pedestal that was once filled with other items and I DO understand that the movie of life needs commercial breaks. 

So, if you’re reading this: my proclamation of my internal crisis now spewed before you, I thank you. There was absolutely no story and no direction to this post: but the purpose has served me well. I’ve voiced my issues and now I’ll get back to work fixing them.

If you can relate to the trudging through life, slow-moving motion I am experiencing, I feel you, sister- and I am here for you.

If you’d like to return when I got something peppy, upbeat and motivational to say: come back soon – the chick that has written endless blogs about happiness and health will be returning shortly.

5 thoughts on “Nah, I’m not me. Not me at all.

  1. You are not alone. Even tonight my husband and I talk about the changes coming forth in our life as our parents age and their friends age. And as a nurse, our age has no guarantees. Live life. And try to enjoy life through all it’s ups and downs. Thinking of you.

    Like

  2. My heart hurts for what you are going through Ash,

    I know, and you know that this will make you stronger on the other side of this. But it doesn’t make it easy WHILE you are going through it. Take all the time you need and be patient with yourself. You are beyond loved, so make sure to give yourself grace and time.

    Like

  3. Take the time to live the now. This is what real life is about. Your body, mind and soul need to go through this to get you to the next place. Have no worries for this soon shall pass. Big hugs

    Like

  4. Beautiful Ashlyn, I don’t know you, although I’ve just recently found your blog…I wish I could share with you all of my “YES!”, “you NAILED it!!”, and “woah! This girl is WISE!!” comments as I read and empathize and cheer for your authentic self. Your writing is heartfelt, honest, and truly inspiring. You have a powerful gift and I’m grateful that you’re sharing your story…I see such an extraordinary tapestry of strength and vulnerability…and for this reason, I’d like to share my perspective.
    I’m fortunate to have had 51 beautiful, messy, sometimes downright soul-crushing, spectacular years of exploration. Although part of life, tragedy, trauma and loss have crushed me like a tsunami decimates a seaside village…what was once solid, gets swept away in an instant…and there’s “before”, and “after”. At first, the waves of sadness and grief are huge and frequent. It seems as though there’s no time to breathe before another monster wave crashes down. As time goes by, the waves continue to come, but they’re maybe not SO big, and there’s more space to breathe before the next one rolls in. At some point, I’m able to predict when the waves will be more fierce (Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries), allowing me to prepare. But the waves still come…I expect them, honour them, and allow the grief and loss to BE. With perspective, I’ve learned that I feel such grief and loss because I have the great pleasure of being able to feel sweet love and joy. I LOVE love and joy more than I fear grief and loss… both have changed me. The important stuff is the stuff that no longer sits on a shelf, waiting for me to have more time.
    But I guess the reason that I wanted to respond is because in every instance, whether I acknowledged it or not, I needed to scream, and cry, and swear, and wrap myself in a cocoon…I needed time by myself, time with friends who pulled me up off of the floor, and time (thank god), with a friend who got down on the floor and just laid next to me…I WAS un recognizable….and so mad that the world around me seemed to go on as usual, unconcerned. looking back, that time spent in “limbo” was critically important to who I needed to become. To acknowledge that the world may have remained the same, but that I would be forever changed. Kinder, more empathetic, less “perfect”, more connected, and so much more willing to live in the here and now. Because I can empathize with your grief, my heart goes out to you, just as kind souls shared their hearts with me while I was grieving. I’ve learned that my broken heart actually grew, and that through this connection of strangers and friends, strength, passion and my sense of self again became one.
    I seem to have rambled on… please be kind to yourself, and know that even total strangers care for you!

    Like

    1. Wow: thank you for this. Not just for the compliments in my writing or the spectacular advice, but for the time and energy you invested to bring a smile to a total stranger. Thank you for sharing with me. My heart is warm waking up to this message and knowing the beauty that is out there. I appreciate you.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s