Hear, Hear

As already stated, this summer has been challenging. Change has ruined me, yet, when I am not in a bout of lethargy, I am overwhelmed by the ways I want change in my life. I have avoided writing because when I write, the recesses of my soul come through, and it is easier to be numb than getting chummy with the hidden monsters that manifests themselves when I am worn down or reluctantly inspired.

This extended period of numbness comes at a price. You can only do so little, for so long and still feel human. Although I do fill my days with this and that, I feel like I do so little, because so little of what I do is personally fulfilling. My life before was so fulfilling. Many people depended on me and I was able to make a difference regularly. Now, I take a look at myself at the end of the day and conclude that I didn’t improve that man’s quality of life by outfitting him for his next bar scene hook up and I’m not really improving myself by flipping through Esquire and Vogue so I can spout off the latest fashions to the few people who still have the money to care.

I made a conscious effort to be selfish for a season. Or rather, to take some time off from my traditional responsibilities so I could sufficiently tend to myself for a time.

I am learning that tending to others is the best way to tend to myself.

I need to find balance. I still have sudden urges to move to a developing nation to teach hygiene and English, but something tells me that would be running away from, not solving this inner turmoil. Now is not the time to be engulfed in overwhelming need. I need to be okay with me before I serve in a demanding environment. The impact of a newly woven rope is greater and longer lasting than one that is already frayed.

What do I need more than anything right now?

I need to feel and believe that I am useful. I need to do some good.

I have spent the summer searching for career and educational opportunities. I have postponed my GRE prep class twice and am contemplating postponing it for a third. I have run 10 miles a week, barely. I have finished 2 books. I have moseyed around with strange company. I have slept in till 9:30. I have seen 1 movie. This is what I have to show for myself...

I think I am actually less motivated to do things for myself, the more time for myself I have.

I think focusing on others will give me perspective again. It will provide me with the human emotions I long for. It will motivate me to wake up in the morning. You may be reading this and saying, “duh, Shannon”, but it is a bit of a revelation right now. In the past I always served others because I liked to do it and I thought people needed me. I never realized how much I needed service to feel okay.

So here’s to a little progress. Here’s to a small change. Here’s to attempted potential fulfillment. Here’s to selfish service with a hope that it will put a small aspect of my life back on course.

Hear, Hear.

Shannon, 6 months out

This summer has been more challenging than I ever thought to even consider. I was completely unprepared for the challenges of moving away from my career and community and starting over. For the first time in my life, I have to make a very conscious effort to keep my discontent and cynicism at bay. I am still deeply affected by my divorce. I thought because the pain of rejection had subsided, I would naturally go back to being my optimistic and sensitive self. I thought I could go back to being “pre-Tyler” Shannon. I think recognizing that that person doesn’t exist anymore is what has brought me the greatest amount of sorrow. I was such a beautiful, wholesome and loving person. I know my marriage was unfulfilling and dysfunctional most the time, but it made sense. Life rarely makes sense anymore.

I have been mind numb this summer [Sorry to everyone who I have ignored, or failed to express my love and gratitude for lately…]. I can’t think, I can’t feel, I can’t perform like I used to. My thoughts are incomplete, my feelings are shallow and I lack the motivation and confidence to take on anything great.


I want is to face every skeleton and move on. I don’t want to be affected by this anymore. I want to be myself. I want to feel like I matter again. I want to be overwhelmed by the goodness of others and the beauty of the world around me. I want my passion for human kindness and my love for learning back.


I don’t know how to get these things back. I don’t know how to heal any faster. I don’t how to fix broken trust. I want to make sure that all my wounds heal up clean. I am not going to fill my mind with distractions and crap while my wounds scab over, just to have them open back up at the first sign of distress. I think what I am going through is temporary and just part of the healing process. I hope I am doing something right…


I have withheld from posting my writings this summer, because most of them sound like this; depressing. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this is part of the process. I want to remember all phases of going through a life changing challenge, so when I go through another, I will know what to expect. Maybe I’ll know how to heal faster next time. Maybe I’ll be the first person to write a book on overcoming divorce for the Latter-day Saint. (Deseret book only has books on how to make marriages last – I’ve checked). Maybe it will help me to comfort others who are going through a hard time too. Maybe there is meaning and purpose to being confused and depressed for a few months. I’ll let you know in my upcoming writings.

Tumbled

If I were to really tell you what I've been thinking about this summer, you'd be depressed. This summer has been an interesting time in my life. Surprisingly challenging. I've spent most of the summer trying to distract myself from my disappointment. For some reason I thought because I had gone through a hard thing this year, as soon as I moved away, everything would fall into place. Like I deserved "a break" from life's challenges. I don't know if life takes breaks.

I'm still recovering. I feel like I am a constant state of disorientation. The kind of disorientation you get when you're tumbled in the surf. You thought you dove deep enough, but the forces of nature have you struggling to find the surface, while simultaneously spreading salt and sand into every orphus of your body. When you're spit out onto the shore, you stagger for a few minutes. Remove the hair from your eyes, wipe the snot from your face and cough up what salt water you can.

I wonder if I am still caught in the wave, or am just recovering from the tumble.