Catch-up (ketchup!) from Part One:
Here’s how my current life stage is looking. I’m an ex-advertiser who left the game at the top of her game to traverse Asia, then canceled that one-way ticket and said no to an offer in the Big Apple so she could marinate in silence as a boomerang kid with two 60-year-old-plus roommates. But hey, at least rent is free, amiright?
The first month was the worst. I paced a beat-down path around my brain and resigned to sleeping away this sense that I was lost.
And then, I saw it.
June 1, 2015
I hate myself. I hate where and who I am, today. I hate the anxiety, (or is it coffee??), settling in the caverns of my stomach. These days I feel more at home with unease than anything else, and not in the way that stretches you. It’s that vast nothingness gnawing at your consciousness as you lay in the dark. Another sleepless night, another few hours scrolling through news feeds more than through my own thoughts. What’s the point of “social” media when it make us feel less connected than ever?
What happened to my wide-eyed wonder of wanting to change the world, one word at a time? I grew up on a faith that teaches holiness over happiness and in doing so I’ve let myself dwell in misery because “I’m building character”. If building character means squandering my talents, ignoring my gut, undergoing the physical and mental repercussions, and floating through the day-to-day ineffective and unaffected, then… No, I’m not ok with that.
If living a life of passion and fire means pursuing a day-to-day where my talents can flourish; where I’m excited to get up each morning then I’m in. But waiting for it to find me is not a reasonable ask of this world, or of God.
I’m going through that period where you question everything—your faith, your relationships, your career, your placement. And if I continue on with the status quo, I fear any remaining fire within me will be completely put out.
Reading this journal entry sent a shot through my stomach. Where had that happy-go-lucky Ché everyone seems to know and love gone? I’d google “depression” and then brush it aside, telling myself, “Christians can’t be depressed” (false). Whether or not I was, I do know what it’s like to be attacked on every front—physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally.
“Christians can’t be depressed” (false). Whether or not I was, I do know what it’s like to be attacked on every front—physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally.
I wish I could say that finding this journal entry was enough to get me back on my feet, ready to set the world on fire. It wasn’t. But people don’t change overnight and, despite how impatient I am, I am thankful that even when I gave up, He never did.
He, Creator of all things good, whose very being shines through the best parts of us. He, the God who rules over everything yet desires more than anything to have a real relationship with you.
Getting to know how much Jesus really loves me, all of me, no matter how many times I’ve run from Him has been so humbling; so healing in a way that no trip to Asia or anywhere else could provide. As I’ve gotten to know Him better, I’ve learned that listening to His and only His voice—not the opinions of my peers; not the threats of ad execs, and certainly not my own fluctuating feelings—has led me to more purpose, more peace, and more passion than I’ve ever felt in my life.
One of the greatest tragedies in life is to lose your own sense of self and accept the version of you that is expected by everyone else.
Image and quote via @ThinkGrowProsper on Instagram
So, I’m sorry if you came here expecting to find me bathing in Vietnam, teaching kids in Indonesia, or releasing lanterns in Thailand. I still want this, but despite my kicking and screaming, being back home in San Diego is exactly where I’m supposed to be, where far greater things are happening right now… and in the near future.
But we’ll save that for another time 😉