Buyer's remorse. Or...irony in a pretty package.

The wise woman told me this would be hard...this is what I keep thinking back to, remembering that wise warning at the start of it all.

What would the journey to transformation include?  I don't think anyone who chooses to heed the soul's call gets to know the itinerary.   Like little red riding hood...I skip unknowingly into the forest.  Sure, this will be tough, I tell myself...like a reassuring self-big sister pat on the back.  Sure, I'll have to scrape together some kind of living I say, but it's just for a short time, and then everything will be great.  Ha! What complete and utter bullshit.  It's hard either way, but I move forward and find a new way to be or I won't be able to breath.

Because here I am...just a few brief months into this life shift and I suddenly realize that it's not going to be this easy thing.  I don't get to just take off the mask and glide like June Cleaver into this new, perfect, happy life.  I have to go through it just like everyone else.  Somewhere, there is an island where it all works out…What a load of crap we tell ourselves. And what will life be like on the other side of this?  It's not going to be this Instagram fantasy, that's for fucks sure.  Same old ego self bullshit, new shiny packaging.

That rising feeling that I keep trying to contain?  Yeah, I know what that is.  That's me loosing my shit.  That's me trying to break free from me.  That's a crazy, wild woman who is ready to scream and smash some china.  What happens if I let her out?

What happens if I don't?

There's no decision to make because I surrendered long ago.  I'm going to loose my shit.  I don't know the protocol for this.  I feel that someone out there must know how to do this.  Can't I just go on walk-about, have a vision, and get it together already?  Do I really have to face MORE of my goddamn demons?  Haven't I done enough of that already?

And then I laugh at myself.  Is this for real?  I just told my mother that I thought she needed to let herself loose her shit.  Like I know anything about what she is experiencing.  That felt strange, and now that I see it in this light, it wasn't even about her anyway.  It's about ME.  Like a giant cosmic smack in the forehead.  I'm the one who has to loose her shit.

This is going to take everything I've got and then burn me down to ash.  But can't I go around the fire?  No.  Because the only way forward is through.  Every damn time.