Change is confusing.
There’s a sense of loss throbbing deep within me. It’s an indescribable darkness pulsing, growing. The problem is not I feel sadness. The problem is I don’t feel anything at all. I am empty.
Lately, I’ve been losing myself in music. Music is powerful. It has the power to transform my mind and the power to transport me to past moments good and bad. One song takes me back to hot summer nights in high school, speeding home as I race curfew, windows down to blow my hair up into a wild dance around me. Another reminds me of a slow, cold winter day at work, chatting idly with a friend as we watch the sun sparkling off the melting snow on the sidewalk. And another takes me to sitting in my car alone in the driveway, watching the windows fog up around me as condensation runs down the glass like falling tears. The memories tug me this way and that, but the music fills me. It fills the empty voids and I am sated.
Maybe the emptiness is because I don’t believe in myself. It’s hard to believe I can be a strong runner again when I literally had to pull myself out of bed yesterday because my entire body ached like never before. I feel old. It’s days like this I wish most for some sort of answer as to why my body has turned on me.
I’ve always wanted to inspire. To catch people before they fall down the same paths I have found myself stumbling along. Lifting people up makes me happier than running, biking, hiking, or writing combined. Helping someone feel whole again and seeing a smile on their face makes me feel not so broken.
Sometimes I forget it’s okay to feel.
We are all storytellers, and I often overlook this. It’s astonishing to me when people have opened up so willingly with me, telling me their fascinating stories and I wish I could be just like them. But I am ashamed of my story. I am not yet brave enough. Growing up I did not learn how to be vulnerable or deal with emotions. I used running to deal with every problem I encountered.
So, I’ll keep on carrying on. The emptiness will pass whether I find my answers or not, I’m sure of it. I’m writing again and cautiously running, trying to [frantically] prepare for my August Ragnar Relay.
The emptiness may be there and I acknowledge it. But if it thinks it’s going to win it’s sadly mistaken.
© Allison Donaghy 2016 All Rights Reserved