Been away for awhile, which after the last two years of constant hiatus is likely no real surprise to anyone. However, this "vacation" was a little different than the many I have taken before. This "vacation" was actually productive. Of course my house still looks like three tornoados ran through it - probably because that happens daily. I didn't move, get a new job, or anything super important or exciting. Truth is, I have merely been reflecting and recovering. More importantly I have been living life. About 3 weeks ago I had surgery number 8 and this sparked some real time of reflection inside of me.
For the last couple of years, I have pushed forward as if nothing were wrong when the truth is that the last two plus years of my life, have pretty much sucked all the life out of me. I was (am) wore down, wore out, and feeling incredibly beat. However, a person does not really want to write much about those type things on a public blog which is under public scrutiny. I started this blog with the hopes of it being a humorous escape from my real life. However, it quickly became incredibly hard, and at times even impossible for me to consistently write. Although I desperately wanted it to be, life is not always sunshine, daisies, and unicorn farts. Sometimes life is mud, bugs, and ... well just plain SHIT!
It is extremely hard for me to admit when I am having a hard time, especially considering I was raised to be a brick wall. A brick wall so strong that I was impenetrable... unbreakable... strong. Because of this, I felt as though my weakness and vulnerability was something that needed to be hidden, tucked away, and kept secret.
However, burying all my angst and pain did absolutely nothing for me, or for those around me. I slowly and unintentionally turned myself into something fake. Sure, people were able to catch brief glimpses into my life, but what was most important that they saw me as the strong person I felt I was supposed to be. It never occurred to me that while I was so busy burying my pain, that I was also burying myself. Yet the hole got deeper daily and I finally I realized that I was in such a deep hole that I simply couldn't dig anymore. Not only was I too weak to dig, I was so weak from digging that I did not have the strength nor the courage to climb out.
Each time I heard someone say "you are an inspiration" or "you're so strong" I felt another piece of me fall deep down into the dark hole I had dug for myself. I become more scared of letting the people around me see my pain and brokenness. I wanted so badly to be that strong, amazing inspiration that other people saw in me that with time I forgot who I really was.
Truth is that the real me is a big mess of brokenness, uncertainty, and fear. My life? Well it has been more like a huge pile of steaming shit which is touched by the occasional ray of sunshine and sprinkled with the smallest amount of pixie dust. The truth is I am not sure where my life is going, or even who I am anymore. I am lost in a deep hole of buried sadness, and un- admitted bitterness. But the good news is that I do not have to stay here. The even better news is that I have no intentions of staying put any longer.
As I gain strength I will slowly climb from this hole, and the real me will finally feel brave enough to poke it's shy head out from behind the wall I have built around myself. The good news is that there is still hope, and with hope almost all things are possible. Such begins my newest journey... Welcome to the world Kimbra... Full of all it's sunshine, pixie dust, and shit... Bound to be a bumpy ride, but there is no better time than the present, so let's get started.