Shame, Loss, and Moving Forward

This has not been a great year for me. In January, I began a new job. In February, I left my husband. In June, I was laid off.

Following that, I swan-dived. I spent my summer and fall in a fog, making a series of unfortunate decisions that have left me feeling quite raw with regret.

I'm not here to justify or explain myself. I lost the two most important things in my life and made predictable, if not cringe-inducingly cliché, attempts to soothe my pain. Many of the mistakes were made with full awareness of the decisions I "should" have been making instead. But the problem with "should" is that it rarely carries as much significance in critical decision moments as fear, emotion, and need for belonging.

So, I sought salves. Hustle. People. Gossip. Alcohol. The perpetual appearance of fun, fun, fun. I'll show them I'm fine. Look how much fun I'm having! See, I'm totally great. 

Surely, no one was fooled. Not even I.

We've all watched people go through it. There's a reason it's a pattern; there's a reason cliché becomes cliché. Somehow this prescribed path forces itself upon you, welcome or not. This time it was simply my turn to make the mistakes, to play the part, to subject myself to shaking heads and clucking tongues.

Fortunately, the fog has lifted, and I'm ready to move forward. Unfortunately, the memory of my mistakes feels like a big, fat whale of shame, dumped squarely on my path forward. I have to find a way over, around, or through--unless I want to run far, far away in some wild, unforeseen direction. 

Frankly, my instinct has been to flee.

Instead, I'm writing this post. I'm telling my story as a confession of sorts, an admission of what's been wrong and a commitment to fix it. I'm hoping to shrink the whale by wrapping it in words (a notion about shame lifted from Brené Brown's Daring Greatly, which I just read and strongly recommend). 

I'm lucky to belong to several communities of supportive people who consistently celebrate the humanity of their members. I know I can count on them for compassion and understanding as I stumble my way back into the fold. And in return, I am committed to bringing my best positive contributions, to getting back in the arena and fighting, and to exploring and playing as we all march onward together.

With that, there's nothing left to do but get to work.