“What am I supposed to do when the club lights come on? It’s easy to be Puff but it’s harder to be Sean…
I know my kingdom awaits, and they’ve forgiven my mistakes…Tell the world that I’m coming home.” – Diddy-Dirty Money featuring Skylar Gray
There is always that precarious point in your life when you spend a lot of time searching for who you really are. Some people hit this point at the end of high school. Some people right out of college. For others, it might not happen ’til mid-life and lead to things like buying motorcycles or handguns.
For me, it’s been a process, and I’ve discussed it before. I’m constantly looking for answers and endings to journeys. I am looking for my ultimate job, my ultimate boyfriend-husband, my ultimate body image, my ultimate “life,” and somehow have this concept in my head that I won’t be happy until I find it.
When you’re at this place in your life, you have two choices. One, you can choose to be miserable and let it fester and tear down your self confidence. You can let it destroy who you think you are until all that remains is a shell that you can’t seem to penetrate to refill with something substantial. Or, you can enjoy the ride.
Because life is a roller coaster. Coasters seem to be a common theme with my diabetes management, and while comparing life to valleys and mountaintops may seem overused and cliche, it really describes how you feel. I, however enjoy the roller coaster metaphor for life above the hiking metaphor (even though I love hiking). But life moves too fast to think of it as a hike. And sometimes, it just plain throws you for a loop. Or a quarter mile long corkscrew.
When you peak that hill, you feel weightless, and you can see for miles But when you begin to fall, you feel your stomach drop, and sometimes it’s a 40% grade and sometimes it’s a 90 percent grade. Sometimes you move at 55 mph and sometimes it’s 70. It depends on whether the track is made of wood or steel. When you hit the bottom of the hill, you feel like you have 3 g’s of force bearing down on you, and like you’ll never be able to lift your hands up again. Soon enough, the pressure lifts and you can breathe again and you’re headed up that next hill. And at the end of the day, the loops and hills are what makes life worth it.
I haven’t been enjoying my ride. I’ve been waiting to get my feet on solid ground. I’ve been scared out of my mind like the first time I tried to ride the upside-down roller coaster at Worlds of Fun in Kansas City and panicked and ran out the “chicken exit.” (I was probably 9).
But it’s time to grow up and buckle my seat belt and stop staring at the “you must be this tall to ride this ride” sign. Believe me, I won’t forget the safety rail.
But I will raise my hands up high.