I just came down from an hour spent at the height of my OCD mood. You all will be happy to know tht even my jewlry is now filed into sub-piles. My room was already IN ridiculously good shape, and now it's about ready to have brain surgery performed in it. The only thing left to organize is my life, and here is where I completely break down.
Keeping my room clean goes along with exercise, having long devotions, and forcing myself to read borring books in the list of things I often do in an attempt to fix the mistakes of the day. Why are there always so many long hours completely wasted, and so many fruitless activities persuied at full-throttle? So, so often I feel that I am completely out of control in my own life, and so I have to find little things that I can control, like the rings standing face-up in the jewlry box.
I'm just so frusterated, because my spanish program isn't working, I still can't find a job and I'm past the deadline, and I haven't heard back from Costa Rica since I sent in my official application. Meanwhile, time ticks by and I'm acomplishing absolutely nothing. There is no way to go to bed at night satisfied with your day when all it held was a bunch of randomly strung-together chores, not one of which contribute to the greater good of anything ongoing or significant. One is left without any sense of continuity or purpose.
I've been realizing lately that I've never really had the experience of working hard for something and actually acheiving that goal. I've been goal-setting all my life, but I never had the follow-through. I had so many bright dreams- going to private school, getting an English degree, becomming a dancer, singing with one of the best local choirs, moving out, even just becoming the kind of amazing, confident person who inspires others... and not one of them every came true. Until last quarter of school, in which I actually managed to get on the Deans list. It was also the most credit's I'd ever taken, and I was working twenty hours a week on top. Now that's living. That's what I want out of this life- a way to work hard, play hard, and sleep hard at night. And make a difference. Do something good, honest, comendable, God-honoring, and really meaningful. Wherever there is a job like that for me, I will go.
So why is it now, once I've finally got a bit more maturity and experience under my belt, that everything comes to a grinding halt? I'm sick of looking people in the eye and explaining that no, I'm not really doing anything with my life. I hate people seeing me living in my parents house, wearing the same clothes I wore two years ago, looking depressed and grumpy- these are the golden years of my life.
I'm sorry to be so complaining, but I really feel a need to justify who I am and what I'm doing to everyone. How do I even want to be seen? I want to be the girl who inspires others to be the best versions of themselves, and I want to be bright and cheerful and confident. I don't really want to be the most fashionable or the most exciting or the most popular, but I do want to be tasteful and relatable and lovable. Isn't that what we all want, in the end? Just love me, not because you have to or because you think you should, but because you really think I'm one of the most awesome people you've met. Don't tell me you don't want it too.
I think it's also really important to me that I be seen as deep and thoughtful, that I'm not just some steriotype from a chick flick. That I'm a tiny bit different and unique without being pretentious or trying too hard to stand out. That my brain is a cool place that "believes six impossible things before breackfast" instead of a place just thinks about what everybody should be doing or how hungry I am.
I tend to feel like all of this would be solved, like I would automatically become the perfect person, if I could just go to Costa Rica and have this life-altering experience. But I guess to be honest I'm really way more concerned about who I am than what I'm doing. If I could do what I'm doing now well and feel good about myself doing it, I probably would never want to leave.
In the end of the day, I guess whoever said it was right when they said, "It's not about being yourself, it's about creating yourself." And in tiny ways, I am moving towards that ideal version of me instead of sitting there in the mire of hating who I really am. I'm trying to be more creative in the way I live my life, for instance, which somehow makes me feel more me and more interesting. I'm beginning to realize art is really really great for a person to do- never a waste of time. And I'm trying to explore music and movies on my own (very slowly) and really carve my own path in these sorts of things. It helps. But I still often feel in bondage, stuck behind bars of other people's opinions and my own stupid inhabitions, all of which basically come down to sin.
I'm such a late bloomer and always so behind most of my friends, even those much younger than me, but on the bright side I think maybe my journey to "arrival" (if such a thing exists) is almost over. Just a couple more years, and if I continue to change at the rate I have been changing, I will be the person I want to be and maybe even doing the things I want to do. By the grace of God alone, that is. In the mean time, I'm afraid the ride can be rather bumpy.
