Yay, for me! (Learning to set, and keep, boundaries.)

I’ve been sick for about a month now and I have to say that it kind of sucks but, at the same time, it kind of doesn’t. I read about 40 books in November. Of course, they were, on average, about 350 pages long, so it’s not that big of a deal, but still… I love reading. Even when I’m sick. So, what’s my point? I don’t have one. At least, I don’t think I do.

You see, I quit my job about a month ago and I haven’t been well enough to do much since then, except read. The curious thing is that I’m okay with that, with all of that, and that’s not like me at all. I’m one of those people who second guess everything, and I’m also one of those people who feel like they’re failing at life if they’re not doing something productive. Well, surprise, surprise, but I don’t appear to be that person anymore or, at the very least, I’m not that person right now.

I have zero regrets about my decision to leave my job. In fact, I wake up happy about it every day, so I guess it’s a “Yay, for me!” sort of situation. As for the non-productivity – (Is that a word? If not, I’m making it one.) – I feel completely at peace with where I am, and what I have and haven’t done in the past month, and that’s a first. Like seriously, I’m 52 and that’s a FIRST.

“Yay, for me!”

I suppose, it really shouldn’t be a surprise at this point because I did have a therapy session on Tuesday and it became very clear that I’m evolving, progressively and consistently evolving – finally – into the person I want to be. I know I’ll never be “there” because, let’s be honest, I don’t think any of us will ever make it “there” – (“There” being perfection or the ideal.) – and that’s okay. In fact, I think that’s life. I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but the society I was raised in sculpted me into a person who believed I would eventually reach perfection or a state of “done,” but after half a century, I realize that’s not only crap, but it’s also nonsensical. Completely unrealistic, in fact.

We’re never done. No matter how evolved or how perfect we think we might be, we can always learn more, grow more, and become better than we are in this moment. When we meet one milestone or goal, we can always find another to set our sights on. (I'm also pretty sure that there's more to learn here on Earth than even the smartest of humans can currently comprehend.)

I feel “at peace” with where I am right now in this moment. I feel joyous and hopeful with the knowledge that I can continue to grow into what I believe will be an ever-better version of myself. In all honesty, I may not feel this way tomorrow, but that’s okay. Three steps forward, and one step back is still two steps forward, so once again, it looks like it’s a “Yay, for me!” situation.

Probably one of the most surprising things about this current state of being is that it’s early December and I’m not in a major depression. November and December, and sometimes January, are usually my “down” months. (“Down” being an understatement, of course.) I spiral every year, no matter what, but I haven’t done that this year. I even feel some modicum of excitement about the holiday season, which, to be honest, is a first in almost 16 years. Now, I haven’t decorated or anything, and I probably won’t, but the change is there. I can feel it. Maybe that’s what healing feels like? I’m not sure, but I kind of hope so.

It will seem like an exaggeration – but trust me when I say it’s not – my life has been a series of traumas from the get-go and despite my desire and my push for a drama-free life, I seem to live surrounded by outward drama, and to be clear, it’s the kind of drama that’s more trauma than entertainment. In fact, I’ve been told by several people on several occasions throughout my life that I could write a soap opera around my personal history, and I suppose I could. But it wouldn’t be about me. It would be about the world I was born into, the people around me, and my inability to set boundaries.

Boundaries. It sounds oh, so simple. And yet, nope, not for those who have no idea what they are, let alone that they deserve to have them, to set them, and to expect people to respect them. I’ve come to realize that everything in my life leads back to this concept of personal boundaries, and it feels like I’ve finally solved the unsolvable puzzle only to realize it was super obvious in its solvability from the start.

But despite how past-me would have reacted to this knowledge, now-me doesn’t, in fact, feel like an idiot for taking so long to learn this incredibly important, yet seemingly simple, concept. Seriously, how are we to know what we don’t know? Even if we’re self-aware enough to know that we don’t know everything, and even if we’re open enough to want to learn and to know more, how can we possibly know where to start learning or discovering what it is we don’t know if we don’t know what we don’t know? But I digress…

Back to the point that I didn’t have when I started this blog – it all comes down to boundaries. Quitting my job was me respecting my own boundaries. I could expand on that, but I won’t. Taking this last month to just be me, setting a boundary that respected my need for space and time to heal without expectations or responsibilities, without outside pressure, was me respecting my own boundaries. While I’m nowhere near a pro at setting or keeping boundaries, I have to say that I feel like I’m making substantial progress.

“Yay, for me!” (And dare I say, "Yay, for boundaries!")