HOW I KNOW I'M NOT READY

I feel like people live mostly in the extreme. Either one side of the other of the spectrum. Giving too much or too little. Loving too hard or not enough. But I've been spending the last two years of my life attempting to live somewhere in between. I am tired of giving too much of myself but I never want to not give enough. I am tired of loving too hard but I never want to not love.

I never knew that stress could come at both sides.

Two years ago, when I simplified my life, tore it down to the ground, my hope was zero stress. Zero drama. Zero complication. Zero sadness. Zero anxiety. I felt that wanting people around me led to more loneliness and expectations not being filled. Too many material things caused too much stress. Too many friends created too much anxiety. And I wanted none of it. Little did I know that on the other side of too much is too little and can create the same symptoms.

This makes sense to me now, in hindsight. But at the time I was desperate for change. And that's what we do. When things get to be too much, we quickly throw ourselves to the other side of the spectrum not knowing that the other side is just as stressful, just as lonely, but in an entirely different way.

I'm not ready. And the world is not ready for me to be ready. Not yet.

At times, we get this anxious feeling that we should be doing something. That we should be accomplishing something. That we should be working toward something. And usually, this means external "something." We feel the need to prove to the world that we aren't lazy. We need to show people that we can keep up. And society makes us feel like no matter what we're doing, it's not enough. We need to work harder, be more stressed, do more than we can handle. I will never live this far extreme again.

But, what about the other side. The other extreme. The side I'm sitting in now.

It is just as stressful, just as lonely, just an anxiety ridden, just the same. It's been quite a learning experience for me. And I got to say, if you're someone who HAS to live in the extreme, I choose this one every time. But, what I've learned is that no extreme in life is good for your mental health.

The other day I was in yoga and as I was in a pose, the instructor came up to me and put her hands on my back, helping me to go deeper into the stretch. She rubbed my back softly and all I could think of is how much I miss human touch. Two years ago I was bound and determined to be able to live without anyone and anything. I wanted to buy a van, move into it, and seclude myself for life. Anything more sounded like too much. But when she touched me.. not in a sexual way, not in a weird way.. in a caring way. In a way I haven't been touched in a very long time, I got to thinking how oh, so lonely this side of the spectrum is too.

Where I am right now was strategic. I created this space with sound mind and total consciousness. And that's comforting. I can live with that. But, I know I can also not live like this any longer. There has got to be a medium to life. And I'm bound and determined to find it. And that's how I know I'm not ready. Because as healthy as I feel in this moment, there is nothing healthy about living in the extreme. And until I can find the point where extreme happiness meets contentment. Extreme love and obsession meets unwavering love. Then I don't know that I'm ready.

Ready for what you might ask?

Anything. Ready for anything. New friendships. New relationships. Big moves. Huge decisions. I can't be trusted right now. Because just as my mind wanted to feel nothing, have nothing two years ago. My mind now wants everything. It wants to jump back into the other extreme. In hopes of finding that quick happiness. That fake happiness, as I like to call it. Instant gratification feels so so so good. But it isn't filled with anything substantial. And until I feel like I can trust myself to stay in a place where I am still living a life I want without the pressures of society and what other people think I need or want, I am still not ready.

At this moment, I want to up and move. Enlist in a big project. Fill my apartment with stuff. Be out every weekend with surface friends. And put a fake smile on my face. I want so badly to feel happiness again and connection again that I am willing to forsake all the things I know and I've learned these last two years in order to have them. And that is a whole other kind of unhealthy.

And so I stay put. Soaking myself in sage and essential oils, books and meditation. Focusing on staying alive. Surviving. And slowly and surely figuring out my medium. What that looks like. How it feels. And how to live in it unapologetically and without guilt. The struggle is not allowing those negative forces to obscure your vision. Because your vision is the only vision that matters. And until the voices telling you to be this and do that subside, you have to keep fighting. And the fight is exhausting, but soon it will be over. And you'll just be you. Living in your medium.