Older, but no wiser

Got to start again somewhere, I guess…

What happened? Somewhere along the way in recent weeks I lost a few things – a sense of purpose, a sense of self, a sense of personal worth. Carrying all of those things seemed too much like hard work; too much of a struggle, so I must have ditched them for a while. But without them, I’m floundering. I also seem far more tired that I ought to be, able and willing to nod off to sleep anywhere, any time, which makes it hard to think about writing anything.

After a year in counselling, sometimes I feel nothing’s changed. I know where my hopes lay, but the internal barriers stand as firm as ever.

And yet…

I’ve had glimpses of possibility, maybe even glimpses of identity. I’ve understood, intellectually, how the twists and turns of the path have brought me to where I am. I’ve seen a hint of a reflection of a dream of who I might be. Who I really am, perhaps…

I remember the words of a manager I once worked for: we’d been discussing the difficulties of a long-term plan he’d set out. We’d debated the philosophy (which was his), and as we turned to the here-and-now practicalities (which were mine to make work) his parting comment, with a god-like smile, was: “I never said it was going to be easy”.

It never is.