Lost My Spit Fire

Recently, someone I have only known for a short time described me as an introvert. While I can certainly see their reasoning for that, I was taken back because that really is not my personality. Sure I can be reserved with strangers and a little introspective at times, but I doubt anyone has thought of me as much of an introvert before.

Last March, when I came out to California for six weeks, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I was already sure that divorce was in my near future, but I was not satisfied with any of my options. When I got here, my mom politely told me that I looked horrible and had pretty much lost all of my personality. My boss seemed to notice a difference during my trip too. He mentioned that I seemed to be coming back to life, which is a little odd since we had only been speaking on the phone and he had not seen me in person. I am guessing that my state of mind was just that obvious.

Several of my brothers have mentioned over the last few years that I have lost my fire. I used to be so spunky, opinionated, and full of life. Sure there are flashes of it at times, but I am not full of sparks like I used to be. So, what happened? Thinking about this makes me a bit sad. However, I believe it is more like a thick fog hiding the inner spark.  Eventually, I can get most of it back.

I think the first wave of fog happened when I was working for an evil company in Miami. I swear the owner was el Diablo. There were quite a few back stabbing Beelzebubs in training as well. While I was never a main target, I learned to watch my back and live in a state of nervousness. I worked there for three LONG years.  Even though it was nine years ago, I still wake up with nightmares about it, which I know is completely ridiculous. 

The dense fog certainly came during the last few years of marriage. While I am still not going to go into detail here, I will say that there were amazing days when everything was too perfect. Most people saw us on those days and thought we had the kind of relationship they dreamed of. Unfortunately, the great days would quickly be followed by a day of insanity when I had no idea what was going on and couldn’t sleep. I was extremely stressed out. The next day would be a recovery day, full of mostly numbness. The last year was the worst when the cycle was every three days – good, horrendous, numb (repeat). It doesn’t take long to slip into a survival mode just to cope. I feel like I was holding my breath during the horrendous days. 

While, my personality is making more appearances, I realize I am still more comfortable living in survival mode at least around people I haven’t known for a long time. I have some ideas on how to find myself again, but they are all quite off-the-wall like moving to Turkey. If you know me, you know I would absolutely do it.  The problem with those kinds of dreams is that they are not easy to make into reality. For now, I sit and wait for the time that I am back to being me.