Find my passion? Let’s begin on an equal playing field. Passion has a few different meanings. Today I’m referring to enthusiasm and strong desire. This chat isn’t about physical love or desire.
As a kid I recall being interested in so many different things. I counted the hours until I could do “x”. I mourned when favorite activities were over. There weren’t enough hours in the day to do all I wanted.
And now? Lots of time, lots of ideas, total lack of desire. It has taken me a great deal of time to stop blaming myself for wasting time. I’m not. I’m living with lots on my “plate.” As someone who was passionate about so many things, where did it all go.
A year ago I took up paper crafting and I enjoy creating junk journals. I toyed with the idea of doing craft shows, selling stuff online, creating workshops that pair junk journaling with the healing powers of writing. Currently I’m making journals for friends and acquaintances and randomly gifting them. I don’t know if they even want them.
Here’s the deal. I have no idea what I want to do. I’ve evaluated my skill set. I’m good at telling people about stuff, some call it teaching. I write pretty well. I have an inordinate interest in mysteries and crime. I know a bunch of different things.
Sounds easy enough to figure something out, right? Well, there is this to consider:
I didn’t choose to experience mental illness. While I don’t experience all of these things, many are a large part of my life. And don’t tell me to put my big girl pants on and get over myself. That’s the equivalent of telling a blind individual to just look closer and they’ll see.
The first four bullet points live with me on a daily basis. I always wanted to be the type who didn’t eat. Nope. I don’t believe the fifth is an issue but I tend to distance myself in general, so who knows? I definitely isolate when my moods are swinging like crazy. Who wants to be around someone down in the dumps?
I do not have frequent crying spells and/or meltdowns. I have them on occasion and they are epic. They aren’t pretty but no one else is subject to them, usually. I don’t avoid reality though I’ve had an active imagination all of my life and sometimes want to live in my dreams.
The last three are a double-edged sword. I’m a product of the generation where we were told not to tell people our problems. I learned well. I’m always fine. Most people don’t want to hear otherwise. As for discussing mental health? It’s still a huge stigma and so many folks just don’t understand because either they don’t want to, they don’t believe in it, or they’re just plain scared.
I’m just me. Personable, funny, honest, smart, and capable. I’m not always comfortable talking about my mental health but I do because so many people have no clue how difficult it is for some of us just to get out of bed or leave the house to do an errand sometimes. And I’m tired of being called lazy or messy.
“Even though the river is wide/I walk down every evening and I stand on the shore/I try to cross to the opposite side/So I can finally find out what I’ve been looking for.” from River of Dreams by Billy Joel
Stories Are For Eternity 