after goal blues.
I’m sad today.
I’m mad I’m sad. I don’t want to be sad. But, alas, I am.
I have some things I’ve been putting off; I guess self care would be confronting them.
Laundry, cleaning. Hard conversations. Boundary setting; enforcing.
Hard things.
Ironman was tough but setting a healthy boundary is harder.
In my opinion at least.
Un-enmeshing. From friends, from family, from complete strangers.
I take on their shit so readily. So obliviously. So willingly.
Being willfully obedient to their hang ups. Make space for them; despite myself. Despite my face.
Making myself small, invisible, docile. Not speaking up. Not speaking out. Screaming on the inside but silent on the out.
Harm. Harming myself. Harming my life. Harming my health. My healing. My heart.
I do it so often. So repeatedly. So… naturally.
Who am I if not a collection of the people I spend time with. A mirror. A window?
A mimic. A Ditto. A mime.
A meme.
I need an anchor. Something to weigh me down.
The half Ironman goal was an anchor. It kept me grounded and focused and forward.
I have some far out goals but they are too far out.
I guess it’s good to not have goals sometimes too but I am feeling as if I’m floating. And when that happens I can float too close to the sun and melt my wings.
They are made of wax you know.
The major challenges are work and play and doing what I want.
They seem to be two similar poles of a magnet. They don’t like to touch.
Some are able to get them to touch but it’s a fine balance.
Some over-engineer with a safety factor and a kill switch. Like those drop of doom rides at a fair or theme park. But those relationships seem artificial, superficial, forced, and are cut when one party senses risk.
The other gets up close. Personal. And it’s great; until it’s not. Expect fireworks, explosions, grudges, hurt feelings.
Language is a good lubricant. The better one speaks the better they can smooth over the hiccups of human relationships. Other things help too. Cultural cache, money, power, favours, gifts, social status. These things lubricant the machine of human interaction.
Or maybe I’m just being a sad boï. Thinking too much about sad things.