so long, thirty-four
I turn 35 tomorrow. I’ve been dreading my birthday for a little while now–thinking that turning 35 was the reason behind my funk.
It’s been a strange summer for me. I started out June making a monumental choice, in a positive direction–but one that put me in a tailspin. My pretty stable life got a little turned upside down. For the first time in years, I didn’t have school to hold onto either. And then, I started a long process of getting my shit together–well, at least health-wise. Which turned a bit disastrous because my body started freaking out–which meant I had some scary stuff happen…that turned out to be much ado about nothing.
I kinda spent July in a fetal position. I was exhausted and introspective–probably more introspective than I’ve ever been. I really holed up within myself. Since July waved adios, I’ve still been introspective–though much more motivated to get things done and make big changes. All that thinking was actually pretty productive. So, I told myself I was going to start some big things starting on the Monday after my birthday–which was actually supposed to be my birthday (I was taken a day early).
For the last several days, I’ve been taking that insight I gained from being introspective and putting together a system/plan for myself. I’ve learned a lot about myself in doing this, and am still doing it–but I also learned more about how I get in my own way. I feel pretty good about what I have so far. I feel secure inside myself and solid in knowing that–despite my failed attempts in the past at some of these things–this time, I’m in a different place. A place where I have an unshakable knowledge that I’m going to blow things up in my 35th year. I just know it.
For the most part, this week has been weird. I got a little food poisoned, have been so in my head that I’ve forgotten to do things I really need to do, and have been super-emotional. But I felt okay until a couple days ago. Not great, but hanging in there. The getting older thing didn’t bother me anymore, but–as my birthday got closer–I started feeling apathetic, stuck, and melancholy. I stopped believing in people. I started feeling sorry for myself. Today was particularly bad. I just really missed my Mama, which isn’t really new–and my parents have sorta been on my mind all week. But it was this really sad feeling that I haven’t had a lot of recently. I don’t cry much anymore, but today–I’ve just been waiting on a trigger.
The thing about me? I hate being in funks. Being in a funk will put me in a funk. I can’t stand not being able to shake it off. I’ve learned in years past to just let myself be upset–even if I don’t understand it. So, I canceled my plans for today and just read and did the movie thing. Typical introvert stuff. But I’m an analyzer, so I started thinking about why I was feeling this way. What was it? It didn’t make sense.
Then, as I was going through new books, it hit me. I’m grieving.
Not over my parents. Not over getting older.
We all know change can be hard. I’m good about change. I usually embrace it. When it comes from outside me. I’m used to being at the mercy of others. To be living my life in such an active way–where I’m not reacting–where I’m choosing things for myself based on what’s good for me? To actually be healthy that way? Well, it means letting go of the old me…of unhealthy me that really really wants to stay the same. I have a fear of changing too much–and, on some level, I know that I will be so different next year. All I really have to do is follow my plan. That’s simple. What’s hard is letting myself do that.
Being that person–the person who I’ve been my whole life–doesn’t honor the person I need to be. It doesn’t support the change my life needs to see. So, I need to let those things go to make room for what does honor and serve me.
Doing that comes with a lot of grief. I knew I hit something when I started sobbing while thinking about it. The funk I was in sorta subsided, and I just let myself accept that it was going to be tough.
But it’s also going to be exciting. I’m looking forward to letting go of 34 and embracing everything 35 can be. I’m the only one who can really get in my way.