I Have No Idea What I'm Doing...

I have no idea what I’m doing, and it terrifies me.

Somehow I have become unmoored from my own sense of identity and belonging. I cannot tell you precisely when it happened or why, only that I have a sense of floating around in my own existence like its a part of deep space, with no landmarks, or guideposts, and no clear means of navigation.

There is this sense of just missing myself. As though I’m standing right beside her and missing her somehow. And a sense of just missing my life. My real life. As though I’m in the wrong timeline, walking parallel and in close proximity to the right one—close enough to be able to feel it on my skin—but unable to bridge the microscopic distance. Which punctures my soul with a sense of missing and being missing from the people, places, and things that are meant for me. Like I'm an overflowing well of untapped potential, with no concept of how to tap back into the source, drink abundantly, and share my abundance with others, despite my insatiable thirst.

The only thing I can think to do about it is to pour all my confusion and terror onto the page, to write and write and write until I find my way back or ahead or sideways…wherever is next. Which is what landed me back here wandering around these blog pages, thinking maybe if I just speak these jumbled thoughts into the world, something resembling clarity will emerge from the uncharted depths of me.

I guess we'll find out...