Drifting

I graduated from college without a clue of what I wanted to do.

Within six months of graduating, I was positive that I already knew what "that" was.

When I told people, they always told me I was lucky to know so early.  I couldn't help it, but I loved it none the less.  Who wouldn't want to know their life direction so early on?  That definitely "fit" the plan I had for life (generally speaking).  I guess that should have been my first red flag.

Now three plus years later, I think I might have been mistaken.  After chasing the elusive dream (that I was so certain of for so long), it no longer looks worth chasing.  Sure, it'd probably still be fun.  But, for the first time in years, I've been forced to reassess what that means for me.  I thought I was just following God's plans... I felt it was inevitable.

Now, I think I'm headed in another direction.

The scariest part is that I have no idea what the new direction is.  And that definitely doesn't fit into my ideal plans.  Nor does change or uncertainty. 

I'm not exactly navigating well either.  Feeling adrift isn't my idea of fun.  And try as I might, I've never been the greatest at the "go with the flow" mentality.  Life is shifting around me.  I just wish I knew what direction it is shifting in.

I'm not a dreamer

From what I understand, there are two trains of thought about personal facts (you state about yourself).

1. You're never allowed to say "not", "can't", "never", etc; lest you hold yourself back from something.
2. You recognize your individual gifting(s), and reasonably state your abilities (as you see them).

I fall into the latter category.  I actually like that facet about myself.  I like that I know what I'm reasonably capable of, while still being willing to stretch myself (reasonably).  I think it's a strength to know yourself well enough to do that.

My visionary boss disagrees.  I get into a lot of word-smithing messes over this issue.  Unfortunately, no matter how often he shares his view on this, I still disagree.

Therefore (according to my own belief of thought), I can state in all honesty that I am not a dreamer.  Or a visionary.  Or an overwhelming personality able to draw people in naturally with great ideas.

I'm a realist.  I see the facts.  I see the gaps.  I see the potential problems.  I also don't think this is bad.  Tempered with visionaries, it's a good combination of creative ideas and practical application all mixed together.

But put me in a group of all visionaries and I quickly become the unpleasant voice in the group.  The resident "killjoy".  Honestly, even for a realist, no one wants to be that.  I hate being the unpleasant reminder that practicality defeats that wonderful, utopian idea.  It's like killing cute, little puppies and kittens.  Yet, isn't that information valuable at some level?  At some point?

So I hold my tongue and say nothing.  And then I feel (or am perceived) as unengaged or not opinionated.  Quiet and unresponsive.  But no one really wants to hear my opinion.  In "word" they do, of course they want everyone to feel valued and able to share, but they don't really want the cold, hard, reality I bring.  At least not so quickly.  I guess at least.

Essentially, I feel like I lose at all levels of those conversations.  How can I be myself (the realist), while interacting with a big bunch of visionaries?  I feel like I'm doomed to failure after all of these conversations.  I literally feel like I'm unable to succeed.  There is very little more frustrating than that.

The future

I hate having this conversation.  The one that highlights my fears, my insecurities, my inability to trust and let go.  I hate disappointing people too.  But all too often I feel like that is exactly what I'm doing.

I've stopped looking forward.  Sure, I "look forward" to small things; certain meals, upcoming events, vacations, etc.  But I've stopped forward looking.  Anything that begs the question, "where do you see yourself in 5 years" is instantly shrugged off.  After several failed relationships, friendships, and life plans, I seem to have given up.  Not given up on life, but given up on setting 5-10 year goals (or really, anything farther than the next 6 months).

I don't even have a visual picture of my life in 5 years.  I simply can't see it.  And I've gotten so good (?) at refusing to set unrealistic expectations for my life, that I no longer set any expectations farther than dinner, or perhaps next week. 

This invariably makes the future the scariest option around.  When asked to consider it, my brain automatically panics.  I don't do this.  I don't picture the future anymore, lest I end up hurt and disappointed again when things don't go as planned.  I have placed too many safeguards in place.  I simply can't do it.  At least I won't allow myself to.

The present is stressful enough.  The future is downright terrifying.  But somehow I think I got off track somewhere.  Somehow I think that conversations about the future shouldn't scare me quite as much as they currently do.  That perhaps I have taken "unrealistic expectations" to an entirely new level. 

I miss food

It took me an hour to eat dinner last night.

This is day three of immobilizing jaw pain.  The I-can't-open-my-mouth-properly-without-terrible-pain kind. I think my remaining wisdom teeth are to blame.  I frantically called my dentist yesterday when I was certain I wouldn't make it through the long weekend, and they graciously got me in for Friday.

Of course through all of this, all I can think about is food.  Glorious food, that is officially too painful to eat.  So I'm sipping on a smoothie that the boyfriend (who is immeasurably thoughtful) brought for lunch and dreaming about hot dogs and corn salsa, and popcorn (yep, you can judge my food choices if you want). 

Image from GiantEagle.com.

The other focus area is how debilitating this is.  I can still walk, breathe, type, work, drive, blah, blah, blah.  But I can focus on very little aside from the pain, the personal level of panic over something being wrong, or my impromptu wisdom tooth removal tonight.  I don't feel "sick", but I'm definitely not healthy.  It's such a strange place.  I'm used to colds, or the flu, or a physical injury, but not this.

Weekend plans are on hold.  Who knows what tomorrow will be like.  Who knows how the rest of the long weekend will pan out.  All because of a stupid tooth (which, might I add, sat there for months without causing a lick of trouble and then all of a sudden decides to spaz out and take my entire mouth with it).

I try very hard to be a "go with the flow" kind of person.  I don't always succeed.  Situations like this necessitate it, but I still hate them.  I would rather have the whole plan worked out in my head (and maybe never vocalized) and change it at the last minute than to be completely in the dark.

It's another opportunity to grow.  Seriously though, did it have to be this painful?

P.S. I had a college roommate who struggled with a stomach problem that they were never able to diagnose.  She figured out that most pain (which could leave her doubled over) came from eating.  She hardly eats.  Bowls of cereal are pretty much it.  You'd never know though, unless you asked (or unless you were like me, and saw her lying on her bed in excruciating pain).  She didn't make it the focus of everything (although I'm sure it dominated her thoughts).  I can't help but cringe when I think of how I respond to pain.  I'm pretty sure my response is not the same.

UPDATE:  The wisdom tooth removal went smoother than smooth.  Took less than 20 minutes from the time I sat down in the chair until I was back out the door.  No pain all weekend (which is funny, since I was popping ibuprofen like candy earlier in the week for pain), and aside from eating carefully and trying to stay away from the worst foods (for my condition) it was like it never happened.  So, my weekend plans of building a table from lumber bought from Home Depot, and painting a room were not delayed.  Quite the holiday weekend, and thankfully, pain free.