Mud

Well reinvention as a process was definitely in absentia this weekend (although I’m gaining some not-much-needed confirmations on what my triggers are). I’m not sure what the problem ultimately was – whether I just chose wrong in terms of a jumping off point or if I psyched my self out with the magnitude of my plans, but it was something akin to an abysmal failure. Even still, I am maintaining an attitude of acceptance in that I’ve not failed, but rather have gotten off to a slow (SLOW) start.

I think that the scariest part of this undertaking is the fact that I’m now relatively certain the person that I’m hoping to become/trying to be again, wouldn’t be any too excited about living my life as it is. So, what makes more sense in this grand experiment? Change myself first or change my life first? Which of these choices has a greater possibility for success? Is one the more logical first step over the other? Which one would really have the most impact on my happiness? Do I even know how to assess my own happiness?

This stuff always bubbles to the surface when I’m slogging through a day riddled with melancholy and disgust. ("Now I'm not one to make sweeping generalizations, but I just hate people...") So here I am, mucking my way through an existential quagmire, losing my boots, getting mud all over my socks, and experiencing a general dissatisfaction with my environment. Hopefully this mud will eventually harden into a new path…