Author: Autumn

I’ve reached the one-year anniversary of the night that I hit rock bottom.

The months that followed were the most excruciatingly painful of my entire life. It was like being eviscerated. Unanesthetized surgery on my soul itself. The manner in which I was forced to surrender my delusions and face reality was … sadistic. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Those were load-bearing delusions.

Then eventually as time passed and the dust settled, I began the psychological equivalent of learning how to walk again.

I have a long way to go.

Yet, the silver lining is that I have not only begun to contextualize, process, and understand the misfortunes of my adult life, but my childhood as well. I’ve realized that in light of the circumstances I grew up in, my rock bottom was inevitable without the cultural insights that weren’t available until recently. I accept that, and will do my part to pass on the lessons I learned.

After all, you must never blame yourself for not knowing what you didn’t know.

One year.

Still dirt poor. Still haven’t achieved my dreams. Still not even working on my fiction writing.

And that’s okay.

Because I’ve been sorting out which thoughts are mine and discarding the beliefs that aren’t. I’ve been challenging the foundational rules of my existence and declaring to the Universe, “I don’t want to live this way!”

I don’t want to be invisible, but I also don’t want the exhaustion that comes from being in the spot light. I’m searching for where the middle ground lies. I’m searching for where my authenticity is.

I never really thought of myself as a boring person.

Oh sure, my “excitement” for the week is that I Spring-cleaned my car, but with hauling out the shop vac while upbeat music blared on my bluetooth speaker, it didn’t feel tedious at all — I’m quite satisfied with my accomplishment. Happy and fulfilled. I have an answer to the question, “Have you done anything fun lately?” What’s more, it’s a nice and accessible answer that most people can easily relate to, thus leading into deeper conversations.

However, at one point during the last year, I was given the strong impression that I was considered boring. I drive very conservatively, and go to bed at the same time every night. I don’t follow politics, or debate anyone about anything. Alcohol? Yeah, I’ve decided that I’m probably never going to drink again, because it makes me feel yucky and I don’t enjoy it.

Which I guess makes me boring by some standards.

Not that I’m ever bored. I have plenty to do and think about. So much so, that I don’t really have the time to prove that I’m not boring.

This topic crossed my mind today as I was thinking about my life — specifically where I am and how I got here. Disentangling my thoughts from his.

And I like simplicity. I like boring. I like predictable. I like using my shop vac to suck out the dirt of winter from my car, then shampoo all the seats. Maybe I’ll even pick up an air freshener the next time I’m at the grocery store and feel excited about it. Yup, that’s me, easily amused. Go ahead and make fun of me all you want.

Because at least I never feel bored. At least I don’t feel like I have to prove anything.

I took my kids out on a walk by the river. We were passed by a group in kayaks despite the chilly weather, and the dog kept jumping up onto the cement wall that separated us from the water, making all of us anxious that he’d fall in. We decided to turn around when the wind picked up, and it was snowing by the time we reached our car. Once home, we treated ourselves with hot cocoa to warm up.

Right now, these are the moments that I want most in my life, the laughter and memories with the people I love. Sometimes I think that I ought to be striving harder to change my circumstances, to somehow ease the financial strain that was handed to me, but all I can think about is what I’d miss out on in exchange.

I know how I want to spend my life. The question is how to make that possible.

I’ve started reading Summer of Night by Dan Simmons. So far it’s been one of those slow paced, boys coming of age type stories, but I’m only a few chapters in. There have been a lot of names introduced all at once, so I haven’t the foggiest who is who — I prefer it when characters are given the chance to assert their personality before the next one pops up. The prose itself is nice.

Thus the days are passing by, one by one.

It’s time to get back into the habit of thinking in words. For someone who has spent most of her life reveling in them, they’ve been rather absent from my mind for the last several months. But, traumatic psychological injuries aside, this is my favorite way of processing the world.

I’ve been challenged to keep a daily gratitude journal. It seems like an added pressure, so I’m not going to bother — har har — but it is true that we write the stories of our own lives. Maybe not the details, but the genre and tone are certainly within our grasp, and it’s better to stick with “inspirational” when possible.

That said, I am working on getting craft items ready for selling, and we had some gorgeous Spring weather days that were spent outside basking in the sunlight.

Not bad, right?

Writing is one of those skills that gets rusty with disuse, so I’m going to put more effort into posting updates, even when they aren’t anything special. I hope that you don’t mind.