Friday, September 28, 2012

Lost & Found, Maybe

Have you ever just lost yourself?

I'm not talking about losing motivation for a specific goal or task, I'm not talking about forgetting to work out or falling off the wagon of that latest diet you're on.  I'm not talking about sleeping in for a few days or wearing the fat pants for too many days in a row.

I'm talking about lost.

Completely gone.

Bye. Bye.

I'm talking about going through such a profound loss of yourself that you don't even know who you are anymore.  That you go from being a vibrant, energetic, passionate person to just not caring about any of that anymore.  That you stop even trying to find joy in what you used to.  That you barely manage to go through the motions.  That you stop even caring about putting on the show for everyone else.

I'm talking about there.

Have you been there?

I have.  I was there for a long, long time.

I'm still there, to be honest, though I'm trying to find my way back to myself.  Fortunately, I have a few friends who seem keen on kicking my ass about it.  Who refuse to just let me be complacent and unmotivated.  Who want nothing more than for me to find my passion again.

It's hard to explain to those of you who don't actually know what the last few years have been like for me.  I've been called melodramatic by those who don't know.  Every so often, I feel compelled to explain myself to one of them, to sit them down and tell them what has actually been going on, as opposed to the distractions in my life that I write about here.   I need to not feel the need to explain myself.

I know that this place I've been in is justified.  I know that I'm strong just for surviving the hell I've been through.  I know that I'm doing this all for the right reasons.  I know that it's not fair for me to expect other people to understand why I am the way I am sometimes when I refuse to tell them.

I know all of these things, objectively.  In my head, I know them.

Then someone calls me a drama queen and I want to scream at the top of my lungs that they have no idea what the hell they are talking about.  But I don't.  I stuff it deep down inside, and then I probably don't leave the house for a few days again.  I can't trust myself sometimes around other people.

That's just one of the things I lost when I lost myself.

I can't trust myself.   I thought I could.  I thought that my intuition was dead on.  I thought I could read people.  I thought that I could trust my judgement.  Now, I know that I can't.

I was telling a friend about how when my world stopped spinning last year, I was in a really good place.


I had four books in the works.  I'd just been featured on BlogHer.  I'd had several articles picked up by other places.  I was gaining fans every day.  I was planning extravagant meals and inventing recipes and taking amazing pictures and sharing them on my recipe blog.  I had launched a doula blog and was reaching a whole new audience.  I was going out with friends occasionally and loving every second of it.

I was good.  Really good.


Then my world imploded and I stopped caring about all of it.  Stopped.

I wrote, but it was different.  I was writing as a tortured soul, refusing to let anything too real out.  I didn't just stop inventing recipes and taking pictures, I stopped loving to cook.  Some days, I didn't cook at all.  Okay, most days.

My camera sat.

The books sat.  They are still sitting.

I didn't submit anything to anyone for a very long time.

I let the other blogs go.

I got up and dressed most days, I put on the happy face when I could stomach it, did what I needed to for the kids.

And that was all.

I stopped loving MY life.

I've been in some really dark places for a while now.  I'm starting to see the way out now.  I'm starting to find myself again.  Sometimes I need a kick in the ass to do it.  To remember what I love.  To remember my passion.  To remember who I am.

I spent a hour and half in the trees yesterday, walking on bridges and along rivers, watching the birds, looking for lighting and angles.  At the urging of a friend that I'm doing a guest photography post for, I was out there.

And I was happy, really happy, doing what I love for the first time in a really long time.

I think I found my passion again.

A message from Dad while I was there. 
I'm just about done with shooting for this guest post, stay tuned.  It might end up being something amazing.

Thank you all.  You truly have no idea how much you've all helped me just by being here.  xoxo


  1. I'm with you. Though the light has dimmed again here. I think I took a wrong turn...again.

    You're inspiring and anyone who knows even half of your stories, can attest to that. I lost myself yet again just in the last month with the let down of family and jobs. And here I sit, again, doing the very thing I struggled to get away from for 8 years.

    I think this weekend will be a therapeutic return to photography for me as well. I miss getting paid to do something that came so easily...Hell, I miss getting paid. Hell, I miss doing something I love...

    Always here for you. Always listening. =)

    1. Love you. We need to totally go on a double date with our cameras.

  2. I think I 'found' you at about this point, when things had just fallen apart for you & I feel obligated to tell you while you've been struggling to find yourself, I've seen a confident woman, mother & wife, trying to deal with the bullshit life throws at us.

    You helped me find myself when I felt like I was lost, while you were feeling lost & it makes me appreciate, love and respect you even more.

    You are an amazing person and I am so glad I found you, so happy that I can call you a friend.

    1. I think you're right about the timing. xoxo


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