Rebuilding Year

2010.

After three months, I think I can safely say that the theme of this year is transition. Learning to thrive on being alone would in itself be a huge mental shift, overwhelming in and of itself--but on top of that, I also have to figure out how to move from being a law student--which I've been almost as long as I had been with K--to being...something else. Something yet-to-be-determined. A lawyer? Hopefully. A professional. Someone with weight to throw around. Someone with gravitas.

Insert laugh track here, says my mind.

Why should it be difficult to take myself seriously? Entre nous, I probably take most things much more seriously than they should be taken. Everything has import; everything has meaning. I have difficulty relaxing and letting the world flow around me. But when it comes to me--but maybe it's the same problem. Maybe I just need to go out into the world and let it flow around me--not worry about whether I should or should not be taken seriously and just do what I need to do. But, says my mind--what is that, exactly? What do I need to do? To be happy? To be successful? To wake up one morning and be where I want to be?


It's a rebuilding year.


That's what I keep telling myself when I'm sitting in my apartment alone feeling like there's not a single person in a 30 mile radius--except for K--who would even notice if I suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. I did this to myself. I made my choice. I decided that what I had wasn't what I wanted--and that, at least, I know to be true--and threw my life to the wind. 


It's a rebuilding year.


That means rebuilding my confidence. It means rebuilding my life from the ground up. It means overcoming the paralyzing fear, self-doubt, and loneliness that are the hallmark of my days and laying brick on top of brick to create the future I'm hoping for. 


Rebuilding sucks.