Lost

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Uncertainty.

It’s taking its toll. 

Having reached new, previously undiscovered depths it is wreaking havoc and reaping the rewards of its bounty. 

Said bounty? My certainty of the world and my place in it. 

As a result, I am lost.

Lost in my body.

Lost in my mind. 

The fall has come people. No, not the fall of civilization as we know it – but that could be on the horizon very soon (dare I suggest it could be for the better…?) – however let’s avoid diving down that rabbit hole for now… rather the fall of a more personal kind.

Prior to COVID-19 and the subsequent end to our “normal” lives. Prior to our nation rising up in protest. Prior to the oldest cliche in the book coming to full on fruition – when it rains it fucking pours – I was running flat out – both physically and mentally. I was in it, awashed in a runner’s high so glorious and sweet – so consuming – nothing and no one could snap me out of it. Seeing “gains” everyday only motivated me to push harder – rest less.  I was a shooting star, soaring through the night sky in a blaze of glory, ignoring the concerns of both friends and family – well-intentioned to be sure, yet pestering and meddlesome. Couldn’t they see how amazing I was? Couldn’t they see how I was living life to the fullest? Couldn’t they see how much I was crushing it? Clearly they just didn’t get it. How could something that felt this good be bad? 

You see where this is going right? 

I am sure some of you who didn’t give voice to your thoughts saw this coming as well. Surely no one can go that hard for that long and not face some negative consequences. Obviously it was not sustainable. 

Well, you were right. And while it sucks ass having to admit that, before you puff your chest out and gloat, it’s important to note that, as with most things in life, rarely is a situation one thing or another, all bad or all good. Most of the time it is highly nuanced and embodies a multitude of both positive and negative circumstances. And while the experiences of the last six months have had some damaging impacts to be sure, I am poised to come out of this a better, stronger, and wiser person overall. 

Regardless, I am not above admitting when I am wrong, or when I veer off course. What I didn’t expect though, was how difficult and painful it would be to try and right myself after this inevitable crash and burn.

As I’m sure I’ve said before, I’m really good at running – i.e. avoiding. It’s served me well my whole life and has been my go-to coping mechanism when things get tough. It’s clever though, this avoiding thing; it cloaks itself in a guise of introspection, self-reflection, and self-improvement. And it’s so good at this that there are times when even I don’t recognize it for what it is. I mean, how could I be avoiding certain aspects of my life when I was doing such “good” work both mentally and physically – when I was striving so much – when I was trying so hard? 

However, when the world hit pause due to COVID I was forced to face the reality of what I was doing. No longer could I go, go, go. No longer could I overload my plate with a to-do list a mile long. No longer could I avoid what I was running away from – because hello! I had nowhere to run to. At no point in my entire life had there been a moment such as this – a moment where I was literally forced, for an extended period of time, to stay home; a moment when all face-to-face social interaction was stymied; a moment when the hailed badge of business took a back seat; a moment when the whole population was forced to halt and about-face back into the recesses of their own minds. Now don’t get me wrong I tried to keep running – oh how I tried! But no matter what I did whether it be house projects – deep cleaning – diving into work (as much as possible with a two year old around) – counting my macros like a psycho – upping my workouts from 1.5 hours to 3, sometimes even 4+ hours a day – none of that shielded me from the fact that there was some massive internal shit being brought to the surface – latent traumas from long ago that I thought I had move-beyond. Turns out, I never really dealt with them, not fully – and after a lifetime of running (avoiding) it was as if the universe was saying, “Fine, if you won’t stop on your own, I will make you stop. Buckle up sister! This is going to be one hell of a ride, because avoiding is no longer going to be an option.”

Since the fall I’ve been quiet. There are lots of reasons why – uncertainty – shame – embarrassment – fear – regret – an attempt to understand what happened and why – an attempt to make sense of this new reality – to practice listening – to learn. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to share, but I just didn’t know what to say and frankly I didn’t have the energy to try. 

True to form, time and the passage of it has allowed for some clarity to arise, but it still feels as if I am wandering the forest alone – unsure of where to go and how to get myself out. I am suffering both mentally and physically, and yet for the first time in my life I am attempting to accept where I am at – to face it head on – to do the hard and scary work that is so excruciatingly painful to navigate. Many paths beckon to me in this forest: the path of outside reassurance and validation – the path of ignoring – the path of resistance – the path of creating rules – the path of self-improvement – the path of strict routines – and of course, the path of avoidance in all its manifestations. But I’ve been down each of those roads before and they all lead back to the same place – here – where I am at right now. 

I talk about and believe in practicing discipline and extreme ownership in one’s life. I still do, but what I’m now able to see is that I was using those concepts as another coping mechanism to avoid; twisting them to work for me in the ways I wanted them to. With this realization comes the awareness that it is finally time to let go and fully embrace them with open arms; to allow myself to wander and be lost for a while; to sit with the certainty that life guarantees nothing but uncertainty; to accept that growth is never possible without pain; to stop running and take comfort in the fact that being lost offers up the opportunity to eventually be found – and find myself I will. It is only a matter of time. 

In the interim I’m taking comfort in the fact that I can shave my armpits with ease again and I’m getting. that. booty. back.

Stay savage friends and Get. It. Done.

If you’re interested in any of this, in my journey, my story, check back… frequently? Much more meandering musings and kuhlhuman thoughts to come. 

Also! If you have questions about what I write or even suggestions for future blog posts, feel free to leave a comment below or email me at thekuhlhuman@gmail.com.