For the past week, I’ve spent a fair amount of time scrolling, scrolling, and re-scrolling through the camera roll on my phone. Thousands of photos live there serving as memory touchstones.
Yesterday while I was going through the pictures, a smile swept across my face as I recalled happy moments from far-flung places, enjoyed my daughter’s mugging for the camera, and was reminded that for the most part, I haven’t ever given my experiences their full due and proper.
On to the next thing!
That’s how I’d lived my life for decades. You might even say I was something of a shark – always moving; a purpose-built apex predator. My only nemesis was drowning from lack of forward movement.
I went on like that for years – always moving, always consuming. Until I cracked.
Recovery and Discovery
For the last two years, I have been recovering from what we’ll call a ‘psychiatric event,’ only there were no balloons or confetti. (0 stars, do not recommend.) It’s been hard. And scary. I’m still struggling with getting to know the person that I am now. This version of me is a bit different than the person that I used to be. At least the me that I remember.
At times I miss how I was able to navigate through the world. Specifically, being able to compartmentalize everything and cram it down into tidy boxes and quickly close the lids. I’m not successful at doing that anymore. Now, my demons just pull up a chair, shake loose a ciggy from their pack o’ smokes, light up and say, ‘So! What are we thinkin’ about tonight?’
There are so many photos on my phone that pull me back to a time in my life when I was in shark-mode. And while I find myself wishing that I knew how to tap into that way of (not) thinking again, the reality is that I make no real effort to do so.
Being closed off and ignoring my feelings was easier. But it also put me where I am now. There must be a middle ground. Perhaps that’s my next big trip.