Vintage Gypsy Magazine Fall Edition October 2020

I had barely dragged my sorry ass out of bed that morning of Feb, 2011, Waking up in my usual fog, I put myself on auto pilot for the millionth time and tried again to push the pain and despair on to the back burner as I drove to work. I daydreamed about how to escape the sadness & emptiness. The mundane and, dissatisfaction of living this Groundhog Day over and over. And I drove over the bridge I imagined what it would be like if it could all just stop in an instant. I felt the familiar unbearable tightness in my chest as my mind began spinning at the idea of running through the guard rail and into the icy water below. I did not want to die, but I was tired of “living�. And in my 35 short years I wondered in that moment what was the point? What was my purpose? Why did happiness and contentment elude me? I had a beautiful house, amazing kids, a great marriage, a handful of good friends and a career I had worked tremendously hard for.

Everyone around me seemed so happy and oblivious to my internal battle. I felt like I was living this silent war within that was literally eating me from the inside out and occupied my every thought. every move and every ounce of my energy.

I was exhausted, overworked, strived for complete control although I felt completely out of control, expected nothing but perfection from myself, hated my body, struggled to love myself and gave every spare moment to others to help me feel worthy..

Had I skipped experiencing the joy in my life because I felt neck deep in struggle, scarcity, comparison and habitual disappointment?

I felt a deep disconnect to my deepest dreams and ultimately the love, honour and respect I desired from myself and the thirst of that amplified as I pulled over and sat in my vehicle.

In that moment of break though I pondered in the idea that maybe it wasn't all in the DO-ing, but in just BE-ing?