It started with a realization. A realization that my years on this earth will reach 40. It is just a number. An age. The actual value of that number does not hold weight, nor a specific cultural requirement, or a predetermined outcome that is looming. It should be just as insignificant as 38, 39, or even 41. However…that is not at all how my brain is translating this impending anniversary of my existence.

Perhaps the pandemic had something to do with it. At this point, the pandemic has its hands in all sorts of places. You may not even realize it is there until you feel its cold grip around your throat as a subtle reminder of the worldwide trauma we have experienced….and are still experiencing.

Perhaps it has to do with my Myers–Briggs Type Indicator (MBIT). (Psychology!…I love things like this). Personally, my MBIT is INFJ. “[…](INFJ) is someone with the Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Judging personality traits. They tend to approach life with deep thoughtfulness and imagination. Their inner vision, personal values, and a quiet, principled version of humanism guide them in all things” (16personalities.com, 2022). Apparently, this MBIT is the rarest. Have to love outliers! Aside from finding it difficult to find like-minded individuals, an aspect of the INFJ individual is the internal need to make a difference. A sense of purpose!

Perhaps it has everything to do with my childhood…*Cue mumbled sounds of acknowledgment from the therapist in the corner.*

Ya…that is for another day…

Now back to the looming sense of doom that awaits me in 2023…

40

What bothers me the most about this date…This age…This indicator of time spent on this earth…Is that I do not feel as if I have a clear sense of who I am, where I am going, or what I stand for. In this world, we are bombarded by a cacophony of information which can make it impossible to determine what melody is yours. At least…that is my current predicament.

Thus…this blog was born. It is part of a host of decisions that I hope will provide me with a structure to explore the self. My self. Other decisions include disconnecting from all social media. Facebook, Twitter, Tumbler, Instagram, YouTube, and Tik Tok have all been deactivated and removed from my devices. No more doom scrolling or dissociating. Today is day 6 of the social media detox. It is an addiction with withdrawals that look like flipping through applications on my phone that truly do not even provide a minute sense of relief….(want to know the weather in Seoul?…). In addition to this ripped-off bandage, and in line with the tradition of resolutions, I am adding in fitness. Of course, health is something we should all work on, however, I am choosing to look at it as a set time in which I am putting my energy into working on myself. After most of my life focusing and responding to others, it is time I readjusted my paradigm. My physical mental therapy will be joined by journaling, blogging, and meditation. A chunk of time within each day to have to sit. Sit with just me and my thoughts…

When I made the decision to start this journey I was not excited. This was not an adventure to some beautiful island, swimming with dolphins, and sipping a drink with an umbrella….oh no…This is the Hobbits going to Mount Doom…the sheer misery I felt when I chose to do this was palpable. Why? I am willingly giving up all of my current coping strategies to get myself through this life. This means I have to address the reasons why I have those strategies… I have to confront myself. I am my own worst enemy?

So…into the ether my writing goes. I have no requirement for others to read or acknowledge these writings. That is not part of the path. However, as is with all things, having this public is part of the complicated nature of this experience. And…that is for another post…