Do not go gentle….

This weekend was not one of the best weekends for me. It’s not that anything bad happened in particular, it was more that I had a deep sense of melancholy.

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I thought back on the past few years, the adventures that I had, the friends that have now become strangers and the sense of life that used to burn through my veins.

 

I had so much life in me. I had so much to look forward to. So much to live for.

What happened to me? What happened to that woman I used to be? The one who would say yes to any adventure, the one who never say no to trying something new…the one who could laugh so loud and so much that tears streamed down my face and my stomach hurt.

I lost her somewhere along the way. In between working and stress and trying to stay afloat I completely lost myself. The essence of who I am.

A warrior. A fighter. A woman who does not let the world get her down.

 

But I have let the world get me down. I have let work become my life, I have let stress rule my life and I feel like I am carrying the world on my shoulders.

I left so much of what made me happy behind. I stopped exercising  because of my health (heart, depression and anxiety)  and because I could no longer afford it. I left going to Temple because all I found there was fake people living empty lives. I left so many friends behind because I knew they were not good for me…

And what have I become? A loner? A recluse? A wolf with no pack?

Recluse

 

I want it back! I want my life back! I want to live a quality life…not this shell of a life that I am living right now.

The word “Warrior” was a word many people used to describe me…but I no longer feel like I am worth of it. What have I fought? What have I concurred? What difference have I made?

I used to make a difference…I used to be this strong, independent, Amazonian woman. I used to be a wild woman who ran with wolves.

Who am I now? I can’t remember the last time I went on an adventure. I can’t remember the last time I truly laughed. I can’t remember the last time I really felt strong.

 

This made me think of a poem by Dylan Thomas, “Do not go gentle into that good night”. Not because I am dying or anything, but because I want to fight again. I want to fight for my life again. For my happiness. I deserve a quality life, a good life… a happy life.

Not this. Not this that I am living right now. I will get through this darkness, I have done it many times before and I will do it again.

I just have to start. And it starts now.

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“Do not go gentle into that good night”- Dylan Thomas

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

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