I’ve been in a funk lately. I get into them from time to time — some of them are situational, some of them are chemical. I’ve gotten so used them that I didn’t really need a medical degree or a visit to a therapist to figure out what led to this last funk.
August evolved into a rather unkind month. It started out really well. I’d had a fun dating life and was enjoying getting to know some a couple of different men I’d met earlier in the summer. I’d also opened myself up to the idea of some career-related projects that would really help me grow my skillset. It felt….euphoric to have that much positivity flowing around. I was happier than I’d been in a while and my positives were liking my positives (as my mom would say).
Around mid-month, everything took a nosedive.
My thyroid, which I’d had retested mid-August went from bad to worse and my dad was hospitalized with spinal cord issues. Those were stresses, but I had family to lean on and medicines to take to deal with those.
Despite being unrelated, however, one negative thing seem to follow another negative thing. I was still giving 100% effort to life, but in a matter of 10 days, the men I’d really started to enjoy being around vanished into thin air and the career projects fell somewhere in the land of ‘thanks, but we’re just not that into you.’
Independently, I can handle these sorts of slippery spots in life. I’m a freaking pro at them actually. Jumbled all together in rapid-fire succession? I felt gutted.
I try not to take ghostings and rejections too personally, but after a while, it gets difficult not to. This year’s word has been vulnerable, and I’ve tried to be that as often as possible. Despite years of hearing I wasn’t worthy of it, I’ve opened myself up to love, I’ve taken risks in my career. I’ve tried to show up more and throw myself into life and love’s way….only to wind up with the much the same result: Thanks, but no. I/We’re just not that into you.
Despite my attempts to thwart it, the series of rejections seems to be playing host to a small pity party in my head. Meanwhile, it feels like the parts of me that give me my strength and resilience are being held hostage by a pissed off thyroid and my maturing female hormones.
And rejection, no matter how strong you are, hurts. Compounded over time, it feels like an elephant sitting on your lap. You can be the happiest girl in the world and you can want to participate in all the fun that life has to offer, but you feel stuck under the weight of this massive thing and you’re struggling to figure out how you’re going to get from elefunk to elefun.
I know what’s good for me. I need to get out and do stuff, meet new people, and re-energize. I need to kick the pity party out of my head. I need to keep exercising and practicing gratitude.
Each day, I practice moving the elephant off my lap. I remind myself that for every rejection, there’s an equal and opposite protection.
But that? That’s fodder for a different blog post.