Perpetual Introvert
So 2023 sucked.
On the Winter Solstice, I started to write a reflection based on my tarot pulls for the year. Sifting through my self-indulgent data proved to be clarifying and deeply personal. My Hermit year was confusing. Confusion often occurs when one is learning and as a person in my 40s, my patience for learning is thin. Especially when what I am learning is disheartening and enraging. The more I learn about history, the more I see it being repeated over and over again. The more I realize how much I have been lied to. I can’t believe more people aren’t angry. The undertow of cynicism wrapped around my legs, pulling me down. December 2023 I almost drowned.
I couldn't finish the post. I realized that I was fighting against myself. As much as I enjoy sharing my writing, I put certain expectations on myself that were rooted in bullshit. I thought my Hermit year would complement my introversion, but I didn’t embrace this part of myself. What my Hermit year did teach me is that I am a perpetual introvert.
My past extrovertedness was fueled by alcohol. When I stopped excessive drinking in 2022, my social anxiety became apparent. Without the lubricant of alcohol, I am unable to effortlessly slip into social situations. I never considered I had social anxiety until last year.
2024 is my Wheel of Fortune year. The Wheel spins and fate comes for everyone, regardless of who they are. Control is an illusion. Self-awareness feels like a prison. Scrutinizing every personal decision I make while my tax dollars are funding genocide. Welp, this year I’m done.
Worrying about how I am being perceived. Trying to be the smartest person in the room. Pontificating over my role in the state of the world. Feeling guilty about my comforts. I’m done.
What I’m not done with is whimsy. Everyone wants to connect to their inner child. What happens after you make that connection? Do you become that child who watches cartoons, makes sticker collages, and eats cookies before bed? Do you worry less about living up to the societal standards of being an adult? I'm grateful my inner child wants come out and play.
When I pull on my scrubs, I pull on my disguise. I enter the hospital as a seasoned ICU nurse. I follow the protocols. I make small talk with my patients and coworkers. Same shit about bills, family obligations, and insurance policies. This is where the bullshit lives and where it is going to stay.
Emerge from the depths. Escape the undertow. Ascend the shoreline, trees, and piles of snow. Imagine the potential. I am cocooned in colored pencils, tarot cards, and a new season of Drag Race. I am riding the Wheel knowing that I am not in control of anything except my own response.