Thoughts by Jen

Part 1 (Almost nothing about the actual experience of miscarriage)

It’s been so long since I’ve written, I spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how to get into this site. A lot can change in a year, I guess. It’s 3 AM, and I can’t sleep, even though I’m tired as hell.

Life is feeling surreal – and I can’t quite seem to put my finger on why. Yes, I recently had a miscarriage… and logically, I know perhaps my hormones are whack. But maybe I’m just lackluster? Is my general feeling of malaise coming from the physical rebound of such an experience? Or am I feeling discomfort due to the fact that I’m randomly upending my entire life to accept another job in a different city? Again.

I can be intensely emotional at times, and quite unfeelingly detached at other times – as in weirdly disassociated. I ping pong from proselytizing about love and acceptance to a jaded, emo corporate-bashing cynic and literally any personality on the spectrum between the two ends. In short, I’m really fun to live with… ha. And furthermore, I’m forever trying to discern what, exactly, I’m feeling and why. Am I in emo mode? Is my emo personality trying to self-sabotage? Am I being existential and weird again? Am I making any sense? Do I love everyone today, or do I want to burn the establishment to the ground? And most importantly – is today’s personality a safe personality to make a life-changing decision in?

That being said, I recently decided to disrupt my life and move to a job in Savannah that will have a lot more responsibility, pay slightly more (but require more than double my monthly rent to live in the city), and actually require me to get to work on time… something I haven’t done in, honestly, the last 4 years. And there’s almost zero wrong with my current job… I’m not going to lie – it’s cushy. And I can’t decide whether it’s cushy and boring, or it’s cushy and makes me a shitty employee who is losing my drive to propel forward… or is this what ‘right’ feels like and I’m self-sabotaging something that’s working? To be fair, there are plenty of little annoying things wrong, but I’m pretty sure that’s going to be any job that doesn’t consist of sitting on a beach in Bali drinking Mojitos and soaking in the sun. (Actually – being me, I could come up with a list of irritations with that as well – just give me a month or two.)

I’ve spent nearly my entire life pushing myself to be better, reach higher, achieve more… but to what end? Where does that stop? Do I let myself plateau, or do I continue pushing myself into what I deem to be a better tick on the resume than my current job? Also – this begs the question, will I ever be enough for myself, and will I ever feel satisfied with who I am or what I’ve achieved? To expound on this slightly, after my first masters degree, I felt inadequate and eventually acquired a second masters degree. Since then, I’ve considered law school, a PhD, a third masters degree, and various other educational accolades – none of which I’ve pulled the trigger on. I’ve finished 4 leadership classes in the various cities in which I’ve lived, and chased bigger, better jobs and higher wages since entering my career field in 2010. I’ve ‘job-jumped’ 8 times (almost 9) in 13 years, and increased my wages by more than 300% in that time. (To be fair, I started my career making $30K a year, which was garbage and I could barely afford my life). All the while dealing with my shit marriage to a Marine which consisted of moving across the country 4 times, a divorce, and starting my life by myself on $30K a year… and I say all of that to say – I’m looking at jumping again after a 27-month stint at my current gig, and I’m honestly asking myself when do I stop?

Yesterday, when facing the reality of moving again, I sat down and tried to count the number of times I’ve moved in my lifetime. For such a serious city with serious rent and a housing market tighter than an asshole, I was required to provide a credit report to my potential landlord to prove my self worth in receiving the honor of paying out of my nose to live in her exorbitant rental. In pulling this report, I noted to my current partner that it shows 21 different addresses since the credit bureaus started tracking me in 2006… so for anyone as bad at mathing as I tend to be, that’s 21 moves in the last 17 years, with 1 move pending next month. (Side note – my partner is NOT bad at math, and fully expected me to share the statistic that equates to approximately 1 move per 10 months across my lifetime).

For shits and gigs, I decided to extend that count and include my childhood moves (that I could remember) and my total count of moving is approximately 32 moves with 1 pending next month…. so 33(ish) total moves in 38(ish) total years. I feel like that’s excessive.

While laying in my bed this morning at 3 AM asking God what I’m feeling and why (with no answers), the only thing I can tell is that I’m feeling slightly lost. I know my partner, my sister, and my sole friend are all tired of hearing me rationalize my potential move on repeat… I know they all support me no matter what I choose, and my over-analyzing is really driving them (and me) nuts. I’m asking for guidance from above, but I’m not really getting any. I can make a list of pros and cons for each… but at the end of the exercise, I’m stuck. This morning, when asking the Universe again, the only clarity I could come to, the only thought providing me any semblance of peace was what felt like making a deal to write. WRITE. Start writing… again.

Throughout my mundane days, every now and again, I sense a nudge pushing me to write. This is nothing new. I have bits of nonsense haphazardly placed inside various notebooks I’ve collected over the last 20 years… I don’t particularly like my writing, nor do I find myself knowing what, exactly, to write about. However, in honor of seeking that sense of internal peace, I am at the point of doing almost anything. Yesterday, my nudge came in the form of an elderly woman in my computer class at work who told me about Mo Gawdat… a man with an incredible amount of wealth and a plethora of material things who lost his prized possession – his son. I haven’t read the book she suggested to me yet, but my internal sense and knowing was piqued – a man chasing riches who learned the hard lesson of what’s most important. Perhaps that internal alarm pinging inside of me upon hearing this story is worth investigating. Perhaps Coelho’s ‘The Alchemist’ is singing to me at this juncture – the idea that my greatest treasure I’m eternally seeking is something already here – either inside of me, or a part of me. I digress.

Yes – I have continual mixed feelings about moving to Savannah and starting this new position… but the reality is – who really cares about what I do? At this point, after moving 31 times and starting a new job again and again – no one in my family will be surprised. It’s my routine at this point… but the question is – why is this my routine? Am I reaching, or am I running? This is why you have the honor and the privilege of reading my private inner battle of ‘should I stay or should I go’ in a long-form stream of consciousness… because whether or not I stay or go, I’ve made a deal in return for peace to write about what I’m thinking or feeling.

I subscribe to the idea of a greater consciousness and try to stay in tune with that. As such, I often open my heart to the great unknown and feel my way to what’s right or wrong for me. In this instance, I’m getting mixed signals… and for that, I take this to mean, it’s my choice if I want to move – but I feel that the real decision I need to make is what actually makes me happy? What am I truly called to do in this life? I think my day job is great – it’s fine, it’s good, it’s helpful, it’s worthy… but it isn’t quite what I’m tasked to do. So, I’ve made this deal that whether I stay or go, I’m going to commit to writing twice a week. Twice a week! That’s nothing! Maybe I’ll feel closer to my calling, more on track, more in tune, and more aligned with the greater consciousness that’s tugging at my heart and mind to do something more than chase the next rung on the ladder.

For now, I sleep.