I find that, with each step of progress I’ve made, something threatens to keep me firmly planted where I am. Most of it, I think, is fear on my behalf; what happens if I allow transformations to take place? Do I change? Do I become happier? What if I do all of what I really want to do, and nothing happens?
That’s the nature of fear. The truth is, I’ll never know unless I try, and the outcomes are all the risks inherent in working toward a goal. There is always risk involved, and I have yet to decide if I’m a risk taker.
I seem to do this all the time, though. Have really great ideas, do them for a little bit, make progress, and then backtrack. For days, weeks, and sometimes months. Some of it is tied to the absence of others’ reactions. Of course, I have to remember that it is not my job to live for other people. Sometimes, I forget that. (Easier written than done, especially when you’ve done it subconsciously for years.)
When all is said and done, however, all that’s left is me. I’d like it very much if all of this followed a sequential progression; you know – I conquer each fear, I figure my shit out, I feel strong enough (confident enough) to live my life that way and be a better and happier person.
In truth, it’s much more messy than that. Sometimes, you do stupid things because you are lonely or hurt or angry or sad. Sometimes you have days where you don’t give a fuck about your well-being, and you certainly can’t contribute anything positive to anyone else’s life. Sometimes you feel as if you’re never going to get past a certain point: you’ll never lose the last 10 pounds, your heart will be irreparably broken, you can’t see beyond your current job or house, your relationships with others will never improve.
And sometimes, you backtrack. Out of fear, out of uncertainty, out of stubbornness. The only person who can push you out of that rut is you. Annoying, yes. But true. And when the unknown hits you in the face, explore it and fight it if you have to.