Here We Go Again…
So I come to you in a not-so-formal way tonight. It’s 10:00 pm, and I’m on the couch watching a movie with my daughter, and yet I felt compelled to grab my laptop. Summer vacation is upon me, and unfortunately, I have always had an extremely difficult time during this season following my divorce. Something about sitting with my feelings with no distractions was very taxing. As the years went by, it slowly got better; the hurt didn’t linger above me like a cloud riddled with lightning anymore. But there is something about this summer; the energy is hard to read. My thoughts are racing, and I find myself more anxious than usual. I can’t quite put my finger on it. As if I’m going through the motions, but not present.
I don’t necessarily feel as if it’s a bad thing; I just sense new emotions that need examining. Finishing this five-year goal of becoming an LPC has fallen on my lap, and to be honest, I didn’t see it coming. Yes, I knew June marked eighteen months in supervision, but it snuck up on me. All of a sudden, I was counting hours, preparing paperwork, and hanging on to every minute the state took to finalize my application. Now I have the terrible task of asking myself, “What next?”
For as long as I have been alive, I have always asked myself this question. Sometimes I find it to be a curse, while others find it a blessing. So now I have to decipher what it is now in the present. Should I start the application process for my PhD, get EMDR certified, entertain love, enjoy this time off? The list goes on and on and on. Normally I have an idea of what’s next, because I set my intentions early on, but this time I feel lost. This time, intentions were not set, and now I am left with the question bouncing around in my head like that old school computer screen saver I grew up with, all day, every day.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t necessarily have a negative outlook on this phase in my life. It’s just very different. This is the first time in a long time that I don’t have an itinerary or road map, so to speak, of what my next step is, but I’m here for it. I laugh as I type this because I know my neurotic brain will not allow me to enjoy this longer than a day. But one can try! Whatever the future holds for me, at least I know I can always rely on myself to do what’s best for me. Becoming a mother at seventeen years of age catapulted me into the hustle culture, and I have never looked back since. But I see now things must change. I need to start enjoying the fruit of my labor. I think this phase is meant to teach me to slow down, be more present, and to keep that infamous question, “What next,” at bay.