In full transparency, this newsletter almost didn’t get published. I thought it might be too sad and lamenting. But in the end, I decided sad and lamenting essays deserve to be told too. Hopefully this one offers a bit of light.
Do you ever think to yourself: What the fuck am I doing?
It’s as if you look around and you’re not even quite sure how you ended up here to begin with. You ache desperately for some “redo” button, a time-traveling machine that can vaporize you into molecules and send you back into the vortex to the specific place and time where you certainly made a wrong turn.
What the fuck am I doing?
I’ve asked myself this question multiple times this week. It’s Wednesday, and already there have been moments of deep sadness. I told Sam on Monday I felt like a loser. And it’s true, I did. I still do sometimes. There have also been moments of lucidity. A sudden burst of clarity and inspiration that goes almost as quickly as it comes. This time, I rode the wave for as long as I could, resulting in at least a few new goals and some energy to go back to the drawing board once more.
I’m speaking in general terms. I realize I could add more context to fortify my point. But how do you articulate and summarize something so unclear to your own psyche? I want things to be different than they are now. A lot of things. I want the heaviness to finally subside and to feel like I’m finally emerging victorious on the other end of this dark, depressive hole.
And trust me, I’m not in this state of confusion for lack of effort. It’s as if my mind loops on a relentless cycle of potential solutions, searching for the ah-ha moment buried deep in my subconscious.
Me: I want things to be different.
My ego: Did you journal about this? What does your Higher Power have to say? Maybe you can book a session with an intuitive and they’ll tell you something you’re not seeing, or your therapist? Are you the problem? Is it like that Taylor Swift song? Are you just not “enough”? Not strategic enough? Not working hard enough to climb your way out of this? Maybe you just have too much trauma? Too much ancestral healing to be done? Maybe you need Ayahuasca? Mushrooms? Maybe you’re just not talented enough? Or maybe you’re being too pessimistic about the whole thing? You should practice more gratitude.
Incessant chatter. That’s all there seems to be. And to what end?
It’s as if there are all these loose scraps of paper on the floor, and try as I might, I can’t stitch them together into any sort of picture that makes sense. My credit card debt is growing. The client inquiries are slowing. I feel called to embark on this entirely new chapter, one that admittedly feels more aligned with my soul, but that also feels big and unattainable because to do so would be to admit to myself that I’m finally going for it. No watered down version to hide behind. If I want this, it’s full steam ahead, which means I have to face the possibility of failure. And that’s terrifying too.
So I wipe away the thought, at least for now. Catalog it in some back drawer of my mind to pick apart more thoroughly once I muster additional strength. I pivot out of desperation, “Maybe if I have smaller dreams, then I can find some sense of happiness?” And that doesn’t feel quite right either. Until alas, I’m back at square one…
What the fuck am I doing?
The truth? I don’t know. And no one can tell me either, which feels particularly cruel and shameful. I know there are clues, like the tears that fall from my cheeks when I watch others doing all the things I so desperately crave to do; like my energy levels flatlining when it comes to anything business-related; like feeling this polarizing combination of triggered and scared when I think about the success of other adjacent companies. What is that?
I continue the search. Because if nothing else, I am persistent. Do I call up my closest friends? Ask them for a lifeline? Beg them, once again, to remind me of all the things I cannot see I am? How do I break this cycle?
What the fuck am I doing?
Suddenly, I muster up enough courage to walk into the room next to the one I write this newsletter. I don’t know what unseen force comes over me, but it helps me fight every urge I have not to, and I’m grateful. I sit on the bed and I begin to tell the person I love most how unsure of everything I actually am. Even though it’s ugly and I’m not sure if it makes sense, I cry. I talk in circles.
And he sits there, listening compassionately. He offers up potential solutions and in the end I tell him, "I don’t think I want the solution right now. I don’t feel I have the energy to face it if I tried.” And for the first time, I don’t try to be clever. I don’t search for the way out. Instead I gently tell him, “I think right now, I just want to be sad.” He nods, and together, we lie down. I cry a little more.
I can’t tell if it’s the physical proximity to someone I know loves me or the way the sun decided to make an appearance after hours of clouds, but something about the exchange made everything feel less congested, helped me return to this newsletter and continue writing it despite feeling exhausting, pessimistic, and unrefined.
I guess that’s the thing, isn’t it? There are going to be times when all we can ask ourselves is, what the fuck are we doing? And we won’t know. We’ll look back at the series of events that make up our present lives, and we’ll wish for the time-machine yet again. Like that famous meme, we’ll backtrack our steps and try to spot the wrong turn, and our efforts will fall short. Because life is sometimes not knowing what you’re doing. It’s also the times you know exactly what you’re doing. It’s depression and it’s bliss. It’s deep sorrow and breathtaking joy.
Our job is not to blot out the pain, cover it up with some well-written, inspirational writing to convince us all we’re fine. Our job is to sit with ourselves, to love the core of who we are, even when we don’t have a clue about what we’re doing or where we’re headed, and to choose it time and time again. We have to take that chance on ourselves.
And you want to know a little secret? No one really knows what the fuck they’re doing anyway.
So real !
So resonant. Needed to read this today. 🙌🏾