the anchor that doesn't drown

There's 2 things I've learned about life.
1st, nothing is set up to go my way.
2nd, I'll be okay.

Sometimes, we grow up, convincing ourselves of the perfect life we will lead.
We think, "Well today isn't so great, but 10 years from now, I won't even notice."
I'm sure there comes a time when that statement is true, but so far--I remember 10 years ago just as much as I remember yesterday.
Our pasts shape us into who are.
The experiences we have.
The friendships we develop.
The faults in all of our perfectly laid plans.

Recently, after quitting my job in social work, where I was for the past year, I was told that I looked happier and healthier.
Really? After a week in a new position, I'm healthier?

My position was definitely a struggle and I knew that.
I just didn't realize how much it effected other people in my life.
It was emotionally taxing in more than one way.
I'm so used to helping other people and trying to be their anchor, that I didn't even realize I was the one who was drowning.
Crying probably shouldn't be a typical behavior on the day to day, not even if you're a woman.
I spent every day, afraid of failure, when I should have just been afraid of not trying.

As a good friend of mine once pointed out, casework is never over.
In social work, there's not always a happy ending.
I was so busy searching for a perfect moment.
Those perfect days, that I was forgetting about the little things that really count.
It's hard to take in all of those moments with an overloaded caseload and a boss who hates you.

Outside of work, I thought I was carrying myself pretty well.
But I wasn't making myself available to others.
I was coming home and shutting everyone out, turning off the tv and my phone, just to sit in silence.
Of course, that just left extra time for self-reflection....which lead to self-loathing....and well....just not a great few months.

I couldn't face the facts that my time there was over. 

I tried so hard to embrace new opportunities, but I couldn't let go of what I needed to do.
All I wanted was to make a difference.
I was failing to see that I already had.
No matter how many people reminded me of how great I was doing, I could never see it.
I was looking for families to inspire me, but all they were doing was draining me, physically and emotionally.

My life wasn't following the road map I'd planned.
I wanted to spend a year working to help make my decision for Grad school and all I was doing was becoming more and more confused. 

I changed my major 3 times.
Again and again, trying to figure out where I wanted my life to take me.
I looked to outside sources to see if my life would ever follow the path I wanted it to.
I just wanted a sign.
I wanted to know that I could have a successful career AND a boyfriend.
I wanted to know that I'd make a difference and have time to get married and have a family.

I tried to jam pieces together like forcing a square peg in a round hole....but it never fit.
It was taking so long for my heart to accept what my brain already knew.
This isn't about MY plan.
It's about HIS.

After one more horrible issue at work, I did it.
I quit.
I quickly found a new position in social work and delivered a speech, worthy of an oscar, to my less-than-pleased boss.
Deep down I knew that I wasn't looking for someone to save me.
I just wanted people to watch and acknowledge me as I saved myself.

That's what our lives are about.
We're supposed to support each other and encourage one another as our lives fall through the cracks of the plans we've laid out.
We're there to put bandaids on the open wounds in each other's hearts for when they finally accept the things our brains have been pushing for a while.

Letting go doesn't mean "loving less".
Leaving that job doesn't remove my compassion.
Leaving those children doesn't make me a bad person.
These were things I had to force myself to acknowledge.
I had to push the guilt as far back as it would go and remember that I had to make myself a priority too.
Sometimes those memories will sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks into a salty sea, but those are tears that I welcome. 

Our pasts should make us better, not bitter.

I wanted my life to become this perfect box on Christmas Day that you open up with joy and all you feel is excitement. But life is a mixed bag. We all get some good and we all get some bad.
The jobs we have aren't always for us.
The guy we spent months getting to know, isn't always the one we're going to be with.
And the plans we have? Well, they're obsolete.

There is a beautiful quote by Edgar Allen Poe,
"Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it wants. The way it stops and starts."
That quote is deadly in its truth.
Sometimes our hearts ache to do good and to fall in love with the ones we trust.
But the beauty isn't in being saved or having the perfect life fall into place.
The beauty is in watching others' save themselves and being there, only to hold their hand in support.

So this is to the people who believed in me AND the ones who didn't.
The people who lifted me up AND the ones who knocked me down.
The ones who gave me hope AND the ones who broke my heart.

It's been a year of chaos.
A year of triumph.
A year of loss.
A year of strength.
A year of embracing new possibilities.
And a year of crazy compassion, that I wouldn't change for anything.

"The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, and the capacity for sacrifice." - Ernest Hemingway

I sacrificed a lot this year, including myself at times.
From now on, I hope to be able to make a difference and to be stronger and more assured in my decisions and with those around me.
I have a great support system, that I will never forget.

I will be the anchor that doesn't drown.