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April Awakening: Day 22

My dad told me today that I’m not a quitter and I’m not lazy. That was incredibly surprising to me, considering I see myself as both those things. Maybe not a “quitter” per se, but definitely someone who doesn’t follow through on absolutely anything she begins. What else would you call that? And lazy? I’m not lazy? Me, the person who comes home after work and sits on the couch until it’s time to go to bed. Unless the mood strikes me to go to the gym, but even that’s starting to run aground.

I told him today I can’t put my finger on what’s got me down, but I don’t think it’s that hard to figure out. I’m just more isolated these days, on my own little island where I’m finding it less plausible that someone will ever swim out to see me. Not just someone, anyone. I’ve put up enough hazards in the water surrounding me, making it damn near impossible for anyone to get close. Yet I complain internally that I can’t find anyone who wants to stop by. It’s maddening, and worse yet, it’s all self-inflicted. I know how to navigate my way out of it, but I’m choosing not to. I’m too comfortable crisping out in the sun, lounging and eating because I haven’t found anything better to do. I can’t even be bothered to take a swim anymore. I just don’t see a point.

I really don’t want to be a quitter. I do want to change and make things different for myself. But it still feels like the only way I’ll get there is if I send up a rescue flair and let someone save me first. As if a person needs to be the catalyst in order to get me to change. And if that were to happen, it’d fall in the face of everything I’ve been espousing all these years. “You don’t need to rely on someone else for your happiness.” But having at least one more soul in your lifeboat can’t hurt, can it?

I’m rapidly approaching the point of no return, where I’ll be lost in my own Bermuda Triangle if I don’t set a new course soon. I have to be unafraid of the uncharted territory out in front of me, rather than retreating back into the uncomfortable. Because what I’ve been doing all these years isn’t working. I’ve grown and learned things, but I always slide right back into my old ways. And no one is answering my distress call. So I have to forage to find a way off this island myself. Cobble something together. I can do it. I know I can. I can be a captain if I so choose. Even if I have to be my own first mate, too.

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