Vulnerability Hangover

How do you want to feel?

“What do you want your life to feel like?” I recently reconnected with a high school friend that I lost touch with after college. We were catching up and she asked me this question. I didn’t know how to answer. I have only been asking myself “What do I want to do with my life?” How do I want to feel? Who cares?

Recently, another friend mentioned that he could make me a little intro jingle for the podcast. He asked me to give him a few words or phrases describing how I wanted it to sound. I didn’t know how to respond. How do I want it to sound? As a verbal processor, it was irritating to be at a loss for words. Unable to describe what I’d like. I was unable to even imagine an answer. It wasn’t just that I was lacking the words, I was lacking the imagination in general. All I could think of was "plinky-plonky music” that Stephanie Foo mentioned using while she worked on the podcast, “This American Life” in her memoir, “What My Bones Know.” Did I want it to sound plinky-plonky? No, not really.

I quit my job almost a year ago and the one-year mark is setting off blaring alarms in my head. I need to have this figured out by now!! I texted a friend about how lost I felt. She asked, “How would you imagine a nice work day to look and feel…if nothing mattered (money, what other people think, the future, etc.)”

I feel very attacked by all of these well-meaning people in my life! How do I want to FEEL? What kind of a question is this? I want to feel whole, secure, happy. Doesn’t everyone? I want to feel useful, connected and inspired. Like I am contributing to something that matters. Helping others. Fostering connection.

I didn’t write a post this week because I was in a deep vulnerability hangover. I forgot that I write this blog for me.

I have been wanting to share my blog publicly for a while. I thought sharing my thoughts would feel empowering. I was disappointed to learn that I am not as confident as I’d like to be.

I deleted Facebook back in 2018 after the Cambridge Analytica scandal. It was easy to live without Facebook, but I could not keep myself off of Instagram. I reached my breaking point and deleted the gram in April 2021, a decision that greatly improved my mental health. Shortly after, I reactivated my Facebook in July 2021 in order to sell some of our belongings on Marketplace. We put what remained in storage and lived out of a suitcase for the next year and a half. Facebook didn’t degrade my sanity because let’s be honest: Facebook is boring.

Since moving to Bend in December, Facebook has helped me build a sense of community. I joined a few local groups. I found my cherished Artist’s Way group. I joined a trail running group and ended up running an ultra marathon relay after someone posted about needing a replacement runner. For these reasons, I’m grateful for Facebook.

In March of this year, I finally worked up the courage to create a public blog. After sharing it with a handful of people for the last few months, I decided I was ready to share my blog with the world! For me, this meant sharing on Facebook.

Lately, I have been feeling motivated to share about my relationship with alcohol. It’s a story that is very personal and for a long time was shrouded in shame. Given that choosing not to drink has become more popular over the last few years, it felt less risky to share my perspective.

I naively thought admitting to being in AA would break the internet. Not really, but I thought support would pour in the minute I pressed “publish.” For the most part, it did. The people that have supported me throughout my writing process made me feel accepted.

I’m reminded of the quote, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” I shared my most vulnerable self with someone whose approval I have been searching for my whole life and I didn’t get it. I was told not to write anymore because I was embarrassing them and myself. They said I was the talk of the town and not in a good way.

I know this means that I need to refocus my efforts inward. I need to reexamine why I need this person to approve of me. This conditional relationship is harming my fledgling sense of self.

I hope that sharing my silly little blog helps others feel seen. This is the reason that I read the silly little blogs of others. But at the end of the day, I write for myself. It’s the way that I process and no one can take that from me.

I’ll write “My Relationship with Alocol - Part 2” eventually but for now, I feel too sad.

Lies.

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Tags: Alcohol, Fear, Work, Writing