Thursday, September 13, 2012

Goodbye and good night

Well folks, this is goodbye, or well, I hate goodbyes - so how about see you later?  Catch you elsewhere on the Internet?  You might have noticed that I disappeared from the Internet for a few weeks.  Due to what I can only really describe as an egregious violation of my privacy, among other things, I had to take my blog down immediately.  I'm not going to tell you what happened, or who did it, but I think you can guess.

So, my blog is history.  All 770 posts.  6 years of my life.  But it isn't gone, just saved on a hard drive.  And over the past few weeks I have been trying to decide how to handle this.  Simply disappear like I did?  With no explanation.  I mean, I had to.  But was I going to post one final post, relocate my blog to a new URL which seemed risky, start over completely, never post again?  I did a lot of thinking about it.

I came to the conclusion that I needed to say goodbye.  Or, say something.

I started this blog exactly 6 years ago when I was going through breast cancer treatment.  It was about that, about my sobriety, just about life really.  It evolved and changed over the years.  It was a place that I could come to to dump out my head, to work my thoughts out, to figure my feelings out.  To find answers.  Or sometimes just more questions.  It was a place that I found comfort for some reason, support sometimes.  I never felt afraid to tell the truth here, or judged.  There were many times when I thought about abandoning it, and then didn't.  I always felt pulled back for some reason.

I've always said that the most true version of me, is the one that ends up on paper (or well virtual paper I guess these days).  I am the most me when I put something into written words.  This blog was the most me you could ever get.  So much more me than you would ever get in person.

I know you all know I have a lot going on in my life right now.  Difficult life stuff about which I don't feel like writing here about right now.  I just came from an AA meeting though.  One thing that always holds true is, well nearly always - is that you always hear the thing you need to hear.  And I love the fact that when you walk into the room, you never know who is going to say the thing that saves your life that day.  Sometimes I am just in awe of how the program works.  I was talking at the meeting tonight about the crisis of faith that I am having at the moment.  And I finally felt this glimmer of the hope I once had, of the faith that was once so strong, so unshakable - the belief that no matter what, everything would be ok.  Just a tiny little sliver of the possibility that everything might just end up amazing.

I don't know where life is taking me.  I'm really lost at the moment in a lot of ways.  I am facing a road of complete uncertainty, career wise, financially, my fertility.  And yes, I have been terribly depressed for a while now.  I don't know what "ok" looks like.  That "ok" that I talk about.  I don't know what it is.  I never have.  I can't define it.  But I promise I will find my faith again.  It's in there.  I can feel it.  I do very much feel like I am at a turning point, a moving on point, the jumping off point.  Sometimes in the program when you ask - but how do you do that?  Like how do you turn it over?  The answer is, you simply do it.  You just step off.  Blind optimism.  I talked to Coach Leigh at Miraval about that.  About the fact that you have to approach life as if you are going to win or you've simply set yourself up to fail.  After surviving breast cancer I realized that life was like this delicate balance.  You have to live each day like you are going to live forever, while at the same time trying to live like you have one day left.  Most days I fail, because I am never in the here, in the now, in the moment.

You know that quote that was on my blog - by Eleanor Roosevelt - "You must do the things you think you cannot do?"  I put that on my blog when I had breast cancer.  I think about that quote often.  Every time I face something that I think I can't do.  Every time I think I will fail.

"You must do the things you think you cannot do."  And so you must.  Jump off with me.

You can email me at emmal.turningpages@gmail.com.  I have started another blog and if you want to keep reading, I can send you the URL.  Thanks for reading.