Girl, interrupted

blog

… and we’re back.

I thought about making a video to give a glimpse into my life in November, but if I had, it would have been full of long, drawn out silences and artsy frames of my face staring off into nowhere.  Trust me, I respect you more than to put you through that. The month was fairly quiet, nothing exploded, and I crossed off each day in my calendar as it passed.

It’s an odd thing we do, this virtual sharing of our lives. The internet is still a new frontier, and WE are the ones determining the etiquette – how much to tell, how vulnerable to be, what is meaningful, what isn’t. In real time, we are succeeding and failing and flying and flailing – and we’re often giving hundreds (if not thousands) of people a front row seat.

When it’s great, it’s really great. But when it’s not, it’s magnified.

As far as this blog is concerned, I’ve been playing it safe. Having once written from a very authentic place, I’ve been sharing less and less – and what I do share is surface-level, at best. I’ve wanted to maintain an image of having it all together – of being fine, even when I’m not. I’ve wanted to be cool and smart and witty; I’ve wanted you to like me. There, I said it.

I have spent years chasing excitement, adventure, and change – looking to validate my existence with various and sundry admirable feats. I’ve sought interruptions to the mundane, and solicited drama to avoid being bored with my life (or, more exactly, disappointed with my life).

But it turns out that what I’ve needed has not been an interruption of circumstances, but an interruption at the core of who I am.

These days, my sense of self is being torn apart in the best possible way. Oh, sure, it can feel like being put through a cheese grater, painful and terrifying, like the pieces could never possibly be put back together (unless they were melted in a microwave) (which doesn’t sound much better).

But it’s been SO GOOD, you guys. Humbling. Necessary. And it’s leading to good things.

In fact, Greta, who knows me better than just about anyone in the world, recently wrote to me, “I just feel like you’re leaving this very safe, very small, very familiar square of space and heading out into the biting air – and now you’re WALKING and FEELING and seeing things. I see you MOVING right now, more than you have in years.” What an encouragement to have someone who can recognize the things that we’re too close to see.

And how ironic that the acceptance of what I’ve historically thought of as an “ordinary” life could actually lead to much greater truths: freedom, clarity, peace.

I am still very much in process. I have jack-nothing figured out. But I am tired of holding my breath, hiding beneath the surface-level words posted in this space. I am ready to come up for air, no matter what it might look like, no matter who might see the inevitable thrashing (and you know there will be thrashing).

So thank you for being here, whoever you are. Your presence, even virtual, makes a difference to me. Our stories are meant to be shared – and I’m grateful to have a chance to share mine with you.

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15 Comments

  1. Greta on December 2, 2012 at 8:09 PM

    Cheering.

  2. Janelle (From Canada) on December 2, 2012 at 8:27 PM

    Thank you for being you! Your strength, honesty, candor and courage have given me hope in some of the darkest journeys of the past few years. Thank you for reminding me that life is not just a journey but an adventure – one that never ceases and always gives second chances :) Love you, sister.

  3. Michael Rhyne on December 2, 2012 at 8:51 PM

    YES! Thrash away. And what Janelle said! We are here…flawed, scarred, scared, thrashing. All we ever wanted was a sister to share this journey with us. Also, you are the reigning queen of simile: like being put through a cheese grater, painful and terrifying, like the pieces could never possibly be put back together (unless they were melted in a microwave) (which doesn’t sound much better). Oh. My. Goodness! Hugs, lady…so glad to hear from you!

  4. Becca on December 2, 2012 at 8:52 PM

    I love your blog. I love your writing and your stories and your honesty and look forward to reading what is to come.

  5. sandy on December 2, 2012 at 9:11 PM

    keep going Annie- its a broad open space you’re stepping out into- scary but worth it.

  6. debbie barnett on December 2, 2012 at 10:33 PM

    I’m glad you’re back to writing. And sharing. And over-sharing. :)

    I’d rather make the road trip with you than meet just you at the destination.

  7. debbie barnett on December 2, 2012 at 10:34 PM

    I’d rather make the road trip with you than *just* meet you at the destination.

    Sheesh

  8. Erin on December 3, 2012 at 8:45 AM

    Welcome back, I’m glad you’ve returned.

  9. Julie on December 3, 2012 at 11:31 AM

    ANNIE..love and miss you. (i made a comment…remember you showed me how in Denver:))

  10. Miranda on December 3, 2012 at 11:33 AM

    This post is so full of hope and life. I love you, friend.

  11. Bree Jeffries on December 3, 2012 at 3:26 PM

    Awesome. Simply awesome. Welcome back (in many ways)! (c;

  12. AnnieBlogs on December 3, 2012 at 3:28 PM

    I love you. I’m here.

  13. Laura Remme on December 3, 2012 at 3:55 PM

    Annie — I love your writing — you say what I wish I could say and you speak of your gut feelings. Thanks!

  14. Julie on December 4, 2012 at 12:57 AM

    Thank you <3

  15. Carmen on December 4, 2012 at 4:24 PM

    xoxo

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