Now that I'm home and settled back into life I find myself dealing with the aftermath of the feelings and to be honest I feel totally hung-over. I miss my friends. I miss the highs. There are periods of longing, wishing I were still in the middle of it and feeling anticipation about when I can do I again.
But I also remember how incredibly over stimulating it was. And I can't imagine ever doing it again.
We are such complicated creatures.
A couple weeks ago Pete and I were both having bad days. I don't remember the details or the circumstances but it was time to leave for church and I couldn't find him. When I did find him he was sitting in a folding chair in our office and he looked at me with heavy eyes.
"They say to 'lean into the pain.' But I'm so tired of the pain." His heavy eyes filled with tears.
I feel tremendous gratitude for the friendships I've made, the wisdom I've encountered, the knowledge and understanding I've gained. Sometimes it seems as though happiness is just out of reach, I've almost figured it out. One more breakthrough or one more epiphany and I'll get there.
But the truth is, I'm a mortal. The people I love are mortals. There is going to be sadness, loneliness and confusion. Anxiety causes the obsessive parts of my nature to feel like the world is spinning around me and I can't find my bearings. Self-doubt, insecurity, guilt and disappointment float across my thoughts like clouds, giving me only brief glimpses of the glorious sunlight.
Today is a cloudy day.
Sometimes my best option is to just lean into the pain.
What did I do last weekend? See here.