The Witch feels like a toad…but she’s still a Witch.

Today has been hard.

I told myself, when I got out of bed this morning, I was going to dance, run and jump in place, keep moving. High energy. And I found myself scared. Why?? There’s absolutely no reason to be afraid of that. It’s not even like anyone would be watching, save my dogs, and they certainly don’t care.

I got out of bed facing that fear, and the high energy happened a little, not a lot. And eventually stopped. Lame.

So why was I fearful? Fear of failure to achieve that goal. I am not, and have never been, a high-energy person. So I knew it would be hard in the first place. And…I failed the goal.

I’m trying not to be too hard on myself about it. After all, not all goals are achieved on the first shot, and fear of failure does nothing but get in the way.

I have this spark in me. Some might call it an aura, but I like the way my mom phrases it. We (in my family) are witches. We are powerful, brave, and capable of making magic happen.

Not *POOF* now you are a toad kind of magic (although sometimes I wonder if my mom would like to do that to some people ;P); but the kind of magic that stirs up change and is capable of affecting amazing things. I believe this. It sounds silly, but you’ve got to believe in yourself in some way.

I think that’s why I started this blog. Because my “witch”-iness has called me to write to help other people. By no means has this blog turned out to be direct advice for someone suffering similar mental health issues as me, and it was never meant as such. But it’s still meant to help people. It’s meant to show myself in my darkness, and the ways I’ve coped. It’s to show that what I’m suffering is not unique, and there’s a way out, even if that means running like hell for the rest of your life (maybe that’s not a bad thing).

Here’s the thing. I’ll be the first to admit: I don’t like people. I’m an introvert at its finest, and most social interaction: Wears.Me Out. So I find it odd in myself that I want to help people like me through this. I don’t know. But I do, and I feel pretty strongly about it. I am a paradox, I suppose. At least I don’t have the desire to turn people into toads.

Despite my rough start this morning, my inner light poked out of its hiding place. I saw a lovely post by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love. Her memoir book is celebrating its 10th anniversary, and she has collected the stories of many people inspired by her journey and combined them into another book. (Eat Pray Love is very inspiring, and I highly recommend it if you haven’t read it).

I saw a comment on the post from a woman having trouble finding inspiration and asking for a “Plan B.” Elizabeth Gilbert actually responded to it, and encouraged others to respond with their inspirations as well. They flowed in like crazy, and it was quite a beautiful thing. I pitched in my two cents, despite being in my own haze this morning; it was along the lines of, “Smile, even when you don’t want to, can’t, or don’t have anything to smile about. It will make you feel better.” It’s a baby step, and it’s helped me countless times. Sometimes making those muscles form into a smile is a workout, but it tricks the brain into producing endorphins, so it literally helps on a biochemical level (sorry no citation, but it’s all over the internet. Either way, I have empirical evidence)!

Today has been hard the whole time. There’s a war going on in my brain. Inspiration and passion vs. (you guessed it) depression and exhaustion. I’ve come up with a way to self-employ myself doing something close to one of my biggest passions: the river. I just have to raise enough money to get started. That part’s scary, because I’m already deep in debt! And that’s where passion succumbs to fear and all the thoughts that this situation will never get better. But the passion is still fighting, even though it feels like it’s drowning.

I feel like I’m dying. My soul, that is, not my body. I am a wanderer, and I am not meant to be stuck in one place, one job, one house. I can’t do it. That’s why I move so often, I think. But then I just settle into a place, a job, a house, until I can’t stand it anymore…and repeat. This cycle is killing my soul, because I need to travel. I need to be outdoors. That’s all in my grand plan, but I need it now. I’d pick up and just go if I thought I could, but I have to pay off some debts first. Sigh…I just feel stuck. And that’s where I am today.

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