““That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.” ~Charles Dickens
This happens every few years. The proverbial itch. That feeling I get when I can’t sit still. It’s usually proceeded by a great life change. Two years ago it was the death of my father. Now, the birth of my newest child. With my father it had a lot to do with me rebelling against him, his death, and the need to prove that I am still very much alive, even when he was not. It was a need to prove that in a great upheaval, a great depression, I could still be happy. I felt the need to break free, go crazy, and prove that there was still “something” left in me.
But now, I’m starting to get that feeling again. I look at my daughter as I hold her in my arms at just 17 days old and think that I have never loved anything in my entire life as much as I’ve love her. And for someone like me, this can be very scary because when you love something that much, you now have something to lose.
Just the other day I was walking around my neighborhood and I couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that spring seemed to bloom overnight. The trees seemed to be bare one morning and then alive with light and color the very next day. And I found this to be the way I love my daughter. Unsure during my entire pregnancy if having more children was the “responsible” thing to do and then within minutes of her being born not being able to imagine living my life without her in it.
But these are scary feelings and sometimes they seem stronger than I am actually able to process within myself…hence the itching feeling, hence the need to break out of my own skin and shed the uncomfortable feeling of being unable to process so much.
The last time I made choices, and while many of them weren’t very wise choices, they brought me to the place where I am today. I’m stronger than I once was, I’ve discovered my love for running, I have an amazing new daughter, and I’m the most confident I’ve ever been. I learned a lot about myself during this time of upheaval, most importantly, to take myself seriously and not let anyone be in charge of my happiness.
But two years ago I did it all wrong. Two years ago I decided that the problem wasn’t me and that it was everything else around me. At that time running away seemed like the only option. And while I didn’t run away per se, I left my life behind for a while and jumped head first into something different and something unknown. I assumed that this would help me feel better. I assumed that this is what I needed to survive. But what I realized was just the opposite. Running away from my life nearly broke me. I became a shell of the person I was and it took too long to rebuild myself. I don’t have that kind of time anymore.
Now, things are different. The main difference, of course, was before I wanted to run away and now I simply want to run. I’m looking forward to being able to run again. To getting out there are pounding the pavement and smashing my problems as I work through them. Maybe this time the itchyness is a good thing; it’s a desire to get back to work on my and continue to my journey to becoming the best person I can be.
And that’s exactly what I’ll do – for me, for my family, and now for my amazing little daughter; the answer I never new I was looking for.