This month is flying by, and so far I'm still celebrating Sobember without worry! The only time I've really been triggered is while making dinner. I do so enjoy a glass of pinot noir while chopping veggies to Charles Mingus and Miles Davis. Seems sacrilege to do any of it without red wine. But I'm surviving.
More than surviving. I'm feeling fucking fantastic. I can't believe how much difference the Wellbutrin makes. I can wake up in the morning without 10 cups of coffee. I can focus (secretly I think I have a raging case of undiagnosed ADD and this med might be helping me with some hearty executive function skills). I feel alive in my skin and my mind is switched "On". Everything seems not only manageable but scalable and achievable. I'm kicking ass.
I'm whittling the shit out of my life and I already see little slices of what I recognize as the life I want to live. I still have more questions than answers but I can feel myself righting my little capsized boat of life.
In the midst of all the navel-gazing that blogging tends to be, I am also coming into awareness that my focus is shifting towards others. I've read quite a lot lately about serving those you love, developing more empathy and compassion, and finding your purpose through helping others. I've been trying to actively engage in that practice. The result is that I'm actually attracting more love, more gratitude, more intimacy. And worrying less about myself, my problems, my insecurities, my blah blah blahs.
My kids are noticing a huge shift in me, and that says a lot, because they really don't ever notice anything unless it's bacon or a computer.
I really love focusing on other people and doing acts of service and providing kindness and love and making people feel special. I feel like I'm really good at it, and it makes me feel extremely contented. The part I have to remember is that because I'm so good at it, people will take advantage of me, so creating boundaries is super important to do. And then enforcing them. I'm extremely in tune when something doesn't feel right and trusting my doucheometer. It's the speaking up part that cripples me.
As I whittle my life into the creation of my dreams, I also need to make sure I am using my voice and making myself heard as well. I need to remember that I matter, that I'm important, and that nobody will protect me and make me happy like I can.
Speaking of being happy, my friend hope is visiting more often, and that makes me pretty darn happy. A Willa without hope is a very sad sad Willa. I am beginning to remember those little things that used to inspire me and motivate me and make me curious. My muses are becoming more visible.
So I'm going to keep on whittling.