I feel like I need to dig to the depths of my self-hatred before I can find my way back up on my own two feet, to a place where I can begin to feel joy again. That I need to flush out all this negativity, loathing and sadness through written word, similar to feeding a fever or flushing out a virus with water and rest. That I need to get all the “ucky” out and start fresh.

I was sitting in a meeting with a salesperson a short while ago, and all I could think about was how much I detest the person I’ve become. I look at pictures of myself from years ago, and I see something that’s missing- something that has been sucked out of me through a drinking straw, leaving me empty except for the unpleasant residue at the bottom of a bottle. I look at my bloated face, my dulled eyes, my shrugged shoulders. Where is the vibrant girl who had that sparkle in her eyes? Who was that woman who dreamed impossible dreams and lived life spontaneously and learned to finally stop apologizing so much for her existence?

It could be easy- I could blame it on my fractured childhood, my crappy job, money problems, everyone else around me- but the truth is, it’s my own fucking fault. Nobody is in charge this life but ME, and it’s high time to assume responsibility and, more importantly, take action.

Tomorrow I shall go out and do something crazy, something daring (yet legal!), something outside my comfort zone. It’s time to start flushing out the toxins and stop sitting around, waiting for the world to grab me by the hand to help me up onto this wonderfully dizzying merry-go-round called life. It’s time for me to just jump right on my own damn self!

Recently, I jotted down a random thought that came to mind while I was sitting in my cubicle, bemoaning another day at a job I have no passion for. I wrote the following:

“I want to be an active participant in my own life”

At first, that statement seemed to make no sense to me, but as I really thought about it, it seemed to make all the sense in the world. For too long, I’ve been going with the flow, letting life, in a sense, pass me by. There are times when I’m so unhappy, but yet I do nothing about it. I guess it’s easier to complain rather than taking that leap- that leap which could lead to a giant failure or a wonderful success. And the strangest part about it? That I’m not sure what I’m more scared of- failure or success.

Fear has always been the driving factor in my life. Whether it be the fear of being alone, of being the outcast, of making soemone else unhappy with my decisions or actions- fear has usually been in the drivers seat when my mind went about making decisions or choices when it came to my life. The problem is that I can do it no longer. I can’t let fear keep me from living the life I want to lead. The life where I find my passion and break free from a career where I’m not using my brain, my personality or my skills. The life where I can sit alone in silence without having to listen to the nagging voices of doubt when I go about making a decision. The kind of life I’ll look back on without regret.

It’s time to stop going through the motions for the sake of not stirring up my fears. It’s time to live a little (no, a LOT!), to be an active participant in my own life.