Why I am doing this, part 3
Spending the larger part of the last 2 years mired in this ridiculousness means I’ve lost a few things. Perhaps my mind, among them. I am pulling my brain behind me and it’s driving like a bockety shopping cart. I finished my MBA and got a job as a consultant before the cloud descended. I thought it’d be something I would do for a while. I was wrong. I got fired. Probably the most appropriate thing, given the situation. My ego ate shit and died. Also, probably a good thing. So, sure, I was mad for a minute.
Then, the sinking sensation got deeper. Every time I thought I might have bottomed out, I discovered new underground levels of personal hell in the subterranean garage of my mind. It’s been interesting, to say the least. Fun, not so much.
It is a revelation, however unoriginal, that when I lost myself, lost my sense of self, lost the “things” that provide the hint of normalcy and some splash of meaning on a day-to-day basis, I was forced to rediscover what is actually meaningful to me.
Getting pushed all the way to the edge means hearing pebbles bounce down the cliff as you skid to a halt. It’s a great opportunity to reach deep within to recall what moves me, what matters. Why I keep going. Because I do care to keep going. So I got back in contact with the creative things that make me tick. Words. Thai chilies. More on those spice bombs later.