Have you ever spent hours on a draft, saved it, tucked yourself into bed without a care, only to discover your entire document had fallen into the black hole of the internet while you slept? Been told by your web host the document is gone forever, not to be recovered, but gosh they are sorry? Asking for a friend.
We can wake up, begin our day and run through the day's agenda in our mind, but we can't be prepared for life's little frustrations and setbacks. I have zero control over those types of things. I can only control my reaction. Anyone who knows me is reading this going, "oh good grief, that poor kid on the other end of the line..."! They will be surprised to know that, although I made my frustration and disappointment 100% palpable, I handled the interaction with grace and shed only a minimal amount of tears. Progress! Those same people will be wondering, what's changed? Where is Sassy?
Change is brewing.
Several weeks ago my doctor put me on a very extended medical leave. I will be just fine, not to worry, but it all boils down to one word my friends, and that word is STRESS. I've been warned for years that I needed to slow down, find a solution, take these pills, try this, do that, maybe try a little yoga, definitely try meditation, perhaps take a vacation, all in an attempt to lessen or eliminate the impact stress has on me, both physically and mentally. I have had success with meditation, as well as a regular work out program. Apparently, it wasn't enough.
As I'm sure you are aware, stress can manifest in many different physical ways, such as aches and pains, headaches, muscle tension, stomach or digestion issues, racing heart, chest pains, high blood pressure, a weakened immune system, and the list goes on. Our body releases hormones and reacts this way as a defense mechanism, essentially activating the fight or flight response. When we remain stressed, typically referred to as chronic stress, on a continual and regular basis, the body becomes basically overstimulated and physical issues begin to arise. The older I get the more symptoms get added to my medical chart. It's going the wrong way.
"I think you have to have all of your dreams come true to realize they were the wrong dreams"
-- Unknown
I've been an accountant my entire career. My degree is in business and accounting and I have never really tried anything else. Heck, I started bookkeeping when I was a teenager. If I had to put a number on it, I would estimate my career has been 75% of the stress and physical complications I've experienced. Yes, of course there are things in my personal life that are stress inducing and difficult or painful, as with anyone's life. Our family has experienced a rough couple of years, no doubt. I have little to no control over much of this, but I do get to choose how and where I spend my time. So I've deduced that work is the only variable I have the power to change or modify. I should add, thinking about changing careers mid-life is stressing me out!
Knowing I can no longer go on the way I've been and understanding that work is the driving force, has catapulted me into, what can only be described as, a mid-life crisis! Wait just a damn minute. I thought mid-life crises were for middle-aged men who suddenly dye their hair, buy a Harley or a sportscar, maybe have an affair, rent a crappy one bedroom apartment across town for a few months, then ultimately settle back into a new normal after scaring and disrupting everyone! Surely there won't be any need for an outburst such as that, and I already dye my hair, so...
Anyway, the last few weeks have prompted me to really take a good look at my life, and it pains me to say, I keep coming back to, "...there has to be more than this". How tragic it is to acknowledge those feelings, but more importantly, what am I going to do about it? Why do I feel this way? What is this "more" that I'm after? Deep down I know there is definitely more.
And I know what it is.
Of course I do. Now that I'm willing to (and have to) be real with myself, I know what it is. I didn't chase the right dream. Say what? I said, I went after the wrong dream! I chose what I was good at, and what was familiar, over what I was passionate about. Hey, don't get me wrong, my career has been wonderful, both gainful and challenging, but I wouldn't go so far as to say fulfilling. When I really get honest with myself, accounting wasn't my first choice, it was the safe choice. It has certainly been that. Safe.
There's just one tiny problem with safe.
It wasn't the dream. The dream was to write the book. I've always wanted to write the book, even before degree and career choices were made. Forty-eight year old me is looking back at younger me and this all makes sense. When I was younger, I had little to no self-worth, only the meagerest amount of confidence, and a head full of fear, so choosing to play it safe was the only option. There was no choice. I didn't believe in myself, so how could I bet on myself?
I have been writing since I was a teenager, mostly journaling. I had so much inside of me, so much pain, trauma and fear it just poured out. Writing is still that outlet and release for me, it absolutely melts the stress away and helps me slow this freight-train-of-a-brain down to a respectable speed.
Do you see where I'm going with this?
So I put my big girl pants on and launched the blog and created the Real Cute, Stacey Facebook page. I have been sitting on this dream for too long. It's time to write, time to make someone's day a little brighter and hopefully get to help many folks along the way. I am bungling it significantly and figuring things out, while dealing with my own fears and attempting to change deeply ingrained behaviors, but I'm doing it. I jumped. That is fulfilling. That's the "more".
I still have much to figure out, like we all do. I'm grateful to be alive and faced with these decisions and choices, it's certainly better than the alternative! I am confidant the book will happen, but the outline and detail have changed drastically since my twenties. It has been a work in progress for longer than I care to admit.
The story I've lived to tell is my purpose. I am grateful to know that much, and I'll just figure the rest out as I go. Thanks for joining me on my journey. Some days are bumpier than others, so buckle up, Buttercup.
Wishing you all a stress free and blessed evening.
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