For what seems like the entire month of November, my headspace has been preoccupied with so many emotions, feelings, and the like, that I have found myself in a whirlwind of self-doubt and insecurity. I have wanted nothing more than to curl in a hole and wait until spring abounds to which I will emerge, new, and rested, and ready to embrace warmth once again.
I know, I know, a lot of the aforementioned paragraph sounds remotely similar to self-pitying—and it is—but traditionally, what I was able to discard as unhelpful or malevolent in nature seems to be operating incorrectly. Or, then again, not operating at all.
Every word is a knife. Every opinion is like an open wound being scraped again, and my sensitivity is on high alert. So when, where, how do I draw the line? When do I shake off the emotional discourse that has plagued me for the past weeks and actually join the land of the living for more than just a fleeting moment?
I started to try and reflect on it and ask myself what really is lying underneath all of the recent sensitivity, but all I could come up with was the state of my current employment. For those of you in the freelance sector of the world, you might relate to these feelings of complete overwhelming disappointment at your affairs. Sure, you’re making money and income comes in somewhat regularly, but you haven’t yet broken out into the reason why you entered the freelance sector. You haven’t quite figured out that business plan that’s been sitting on your shelf for over a year, or maybe you haven’t even developed one, all you have is an idea, but it looms overhead casting a dark shadow on your life.
Now that I’ve put pen to paper, it’s occurring to me that this conflict has little to do with sensitivity at all—I am, an open book, a vessel, a chalice, hungry and unchained and eager for someone to pick me up, engage with me, and use me to their pleasure. It’s validation for my work. It’s desiring so desperately to have a parade of echoes championing me on for something that I’ve created, and me begging that it never stop.
And then, maybe at the same time, maybe I’m grappling with the fact that right now, it might better to be silent. It might be better to sit back and wait silently for something to happen, rather than so blatantly throw myself out there in all my vulnerability. Maybe, part of this sensitivity is me questioning my own self worth outside of a career and financial success, and instead, is a moment for me to ask, why am I here?