Life is an adventure and most of the time it’s safe to say that I get frustrated with my particular adventure. whether it be that my job is stressing me out, my meds aren’t working, and sometimes I just plain feel like I’ve stalled out.
I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t it, it’s not the end of the line. I am more than I am right now… and yet, it’s hard to remember even that much. I’m 23 and I live with my parents. That feels, yet it’s where my life has led me to.
I’ve been trying to think lately about when people stopped asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. When did I stop thinking about that? When did I resign myself to being a cog in some corporate machine instead of a space ballerina or a Mac n cheese critic? When did I stop dreaming? Over the last few years I’ve been trying to figure out where my passion went, what passion even is and let me just say that those are some of the most difficult answers in the world to come up with.
I’m sure that I’m not the only person in the world in this stage of life right now. That stage where we have just a little bit of save the world left in us that the overlords haven’t managed to crush out of us yet, fighting desperately not to give in. Personally, I feel like every day I get a little bit closer to that. A little bit closer to putting away my pencils and paper, closing that word processor for the last time… I think maybe I was too young, not ready enough to graduate college when I did. Three years was too fast. I feel like I skipped the tutorial and went straight into the game.
It’s like all those heroes that go off a quest and get lured into some kind of faery trap. They get stuck in a paradise and years and centuries pass and they never leave because they don’t realize what’s happening. They’re too comfortable where they’re at and though they know they should be continuing on their quest, they’re still there on Calypso’s island…. or whatever place comes to your mind. By the time the hero escapes, if they don’t die first, it’s either too late or they’ve lost many a year without realizing it, thinking it’s been only a few days or hours.
It’s a terrifying thing to be self aware in that portion of your quest, depression and anxiety don’t help either – they just cloud your judgement throughout the whole ordeal. You’d almost rather the siren had you completely under her spell so that you don’t realize what’s really happening to you… what you are doing to yourself.
I’m starting to fight. I’m indecisive about it, but I’m starting to put together a picture of my life. I’m starting to struggle against the siren’s hold. The call of peace and cushioned comfort.
Part of that is latching onto my faith, and part of it is trying to move forward. Not fighting the siren directly, but pulling away from her. For me that is taking the shape of getting my portfolios together, writing and art. I’m hoping that by January next year I’ll be able to start submitting again to magazines and contests after I’ve had some time to get things together. I’m getting Xanadu together and I’m getting materials ready to put in applications for art school, get a second bachelors, and I’m going to apply for some masters programs while I’m at it, hopefully start in fall of 2020 at the latest. I’m going to try and get further in my writing. I’m starting to formulate what I want my life to look like.
I want to write, that’s an integral part of who I am, always has been. I also want to draw and paint. I want to be an illustrator. I want to illustrate stories for children, teens, young adults, and adults, whatever I write I want to be able to illustrate it and strengthen it with other forms of storytelling. I’m such an unfocused person that I don’t want to do only one thing. I don’t want to settle for one of my interests. I want to meld them and make them work together, enough moving parts and my brain will shut up and just work. That’s the kind of person I am.
I’m taking an online art course right now and I’m looking into local classes and programs as an adult learner. Even if I don’t get a degree in it I think I might benefit from doing some kind of program or class. I’m also looking for a local writing group. It would be nice to get together with other writers and talk shop, get encouragement and help with tricky bits.
The world is a big place and I’m hoping to explore it a little more and maybe brighten it up with a few good stories.