life goals

Sometimes a dream has to die in order to make room for a better dream.

I don't know who said that, but it resonates within me.

What determines our life goals? 

Personality? Attributes? Likes or dislikes? Circumstances? 

Those are formed starting at a very young age. 

I can remember not liking green beans as a child. I still don't like them. But what made me think I don't like green beans? 

When I think of life goals or dreams, I think big picture. See the Grand Canyon. Learn to scuba dive. Learn a lamguage or travel somewhere in the world. I forget that those big dreams are made up of little goals. The way to move forward is in a single step. 

But what if those dreams stay only dreams? What if they can never come true? What then?

Do we just give up on our dreams? Let them die? 

All my life I have wanted to be one thing. An artist. I denied that dream for many years pursuing other's dreams for me. I even went to school and got a degree that now I am proud of but when I graduated felt empty. It wasn't my dream. Since then I have come to see how I have used my degree in Communications both personally and professionally. But still, that dream of being an artist is still lurking in my mind. 

Mind you, I work on art daily. Rarely selling any art but rather giving it away. I ask myself "why?". Why work at something that maybe isn't prpductive or profitable? 

And on the other side, why have I not pursued this dream professionally? Why have I not gone back to school for art? 

Those questions haunt me. But I know the answer. 

When I was a kid, I was always creating something. Drawing. Painting. Miniatures. Dolls. Whatever art and crafts I could get my hands on. It was a coping skill for me. I'd sit in front of the tv at night meticulously hand sewing doll clothes. i burnt my fingers on the hot glue gun making doll house stuff. I colored pictures and designed fashions. I made houses outside out of sticks and rocks. I pretend cooked with mud and plants I picked. The list goes on. 

You see, being an aritst is and was something I am, not just something I learned. Even though I have never taken an art class with the exception of 3rd grade art.....I taught myself. I was simply doing what I felt pulled towards. 

Back to what determines our dreams. I believe that our personalities, circumstances, attributes, and likes/dislikes all contribute to what become our life goals. Our dreams. 

I also believe that they can be shaped by our peers and the adults in our lives.

And this leads to more questions. 

What if I've neen doing the wrong thing? That its not my dream I'm living? Does that make my life null?

Not at all. Sometimes our dreams never come true. Sometimes we have a sacrifice our dreams. Sometimes our dreams are impossible. But they still are our life goals. They still are a part of us

If I had continued on the academic road and professionally used my degree, would I be denying my goal of being an artist? No. Because somehow. Someway. I would have found an outlet for that dream. Because its a part of who I am. 

I work on art every single day. Sometimes I share my art with others. Sometimes I stick it in a box and let it gather dust. I worl on art for myself. To satisfy that longing to be an artist. To appease the dream. 

And yes, I have other dreams. Ones that may never come true. But I'm ok with that because part of dreaming is in the planning and the dreaming of the goal. 

Don't give up on your life goals. Recognize that your dreams are part of you. 

And if a dream has to die, don't give up. There's always another dream to follow. 

happiness

The start of something new. 

What changes a life? 

What makes a difference?

Do you strive to better yourself so you can be the best version of you for others? 

I used to be a people pleaser. And sometimes that tendency happens to flare up. But now days I have been so focused on my mental health that caring for others has fallen to the wayside. Not that I'm not nice or anything. But now I put myself first. Sounds selfish, right? 

Wrong. Because if we can't care for our needs how can we care for other's needs? 

Bwing around a lot of people always bothers me. The noise and being unavle to hear individual conversations in the midst of all the chatter. It stresses me out and exhausts me. I NEED time alone to recharge. Is that being selfish? No. I am taking care of myself so I can be the best me I can be. 

When my mom had her strokes yeara ago, I moved in with mom and dad to help her. She needed 24/7 care. I didn't get breaks. I slept on the couch so I could hear her when she would get up to go to the toilet. The moments while she was sleeping, I wouls get household chores done. My dad would come home from work and help a little. But it was the times ai spent away from her that I came to maoe the most out of. I treasured every moment I have had and will have with my mom. But I needed that break. 

Was I being selfish? NO!!

I would have burnt out long ago. 

When I was first diagnosed with Boderline Personality Disorder among other illnesses, I felt like it was a life sentence. I have come to terms with it now. The thing is, in the 7 years of treatments, I can finally say I am finding my happiness. 

currently

I'm laying on a couch listening to the rotating fan blow its cooler breeze in the room. It's a soothing sound. Especially in this humid heat without ac. But I am so glad to have a roof over my head, food in my belly, a place to sleep and a good friend to visit for a month. That's right. I'm on vacation in Minnesota visiting my dear friend AZ. 

I roadtripped up here from Indiana all by myself. Well, kinda. I like to think Jesus was with me too. Which was good because it was a 12 hour drive including several stops! 

I enjoyed the time driving to reflect on my life and my goals. It's been 7 years since the mental breakdown of 2013 that changed my life. I had been diagnosed with Boderline Peraonality Disorder, Depression and Anxiety in 2008 but I kept denying it. From 2008 to 2013 I pretended everything was ok. But it wasn't. I was spiraling downward like alice in the rabbit hole. The onky thing is, when I landed, I was flat on my face. I found myself in an inpatient psych ward for almost 2 weeks. I cried non stop. They couldn't console me. I felt like my whole world fell apart. When actually it was just me that fell apart. And that's actually turned out to be a good thing. You see, when I left that psych ward, I was broken. I was sad. I was confused and angry. But then I met my therapist. And she helped me see that thru the pain comes beauty. Its been 7 years since I've been in therapy. I've been to the inpatient unit several more times. But today I can truly say that I am better than I was in 2013 and better today than yesterday. I have many people to thank for that. And thanks be to Jesus who never gives up on me even when I was ready to give up on myself. 

Since then I have been diagnosed with dissociative disorder and ptsd. But that doesn't define who I am. I am who I am today because of my past experiences. And I'm ok with that. 

current thoughts

I haven't sat down to write in a while. Not even in my personal journal. There's just too much going on these days in the world. I feel overwhelmed by it all. 

I could go off and state my opinions here but the thing about opinions is that everyone thinks they're the ones who are right. Which makes everyone else feel invalidated and inferior. 

That's not why I write. 

I write because it's healing. It's informative. It's my voice among billions. And yet, I am humbled that anyone would care to listen to my ramblings. 

I read some of my other posts and was struck by the emotions both in the writing and as I was reading. Grief still rears it's ugly head sometimes but I have come to see it more as an old friend than an enemy. You see, while I grieve, for those I have lost, for lost dreams and hopes, I truly FEEL. I feel the pain. I feel the sorrow. And that feeling shows me that I am very much alive. And that gives me hope. 

Because I could choose to let the pain swallow me until my heart shrivels. I could choose to not feel anything and become coldhearted. But to FEEL. 

Truly feel. That is living. 

We feel a lot of emotions these days with the current events going on. People dying. People sick. Fear. Uncertainty. Lost jobs. Riots. I could go on. It's tragedy after tragedy and it doesnt look like its going to stop anytime soon. 

I admit, sometimes I want to close my eyes and pretend that nothing is changing. But that's not reality and not helpful. More than that, I want to feel the emotions regarding the pain of our world. I want to open my eyes more and more so that I can see with clarity what needs to be done. I want to feel alive even in the midst of the pain and confusion. 

It's the only way we will rise from the ashes. To come out the other side and say "We made it.". TOGETHER. We can make it through.