“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.” Frank Herbert
I used to feel excited when I receive a notification from my blog – a like, comment or subscription … whatever the reason the bell at the top right corner went off.
I would check my stats almost daily, even though I rarely posted anything.
I would compare today with yesterday, this month vs. last month, ..etc
120 days project in 2015?
FatBoy Project? This blog?
My failed business ventures? Financial insecurities?
Inability to adapt to new culture?…etc
The longest drug binge in my life: +800 days of daily binging. More than 2 years.
In those 800-something days, I quit Medical school, bought my first car, contemplated suicide, went to prison, got married, multiple failed business ventures, lost my oldest brother, lost control of self, sent to continue Medical school again, and finally, expecting my first child.
I just summarized more than 2 years in a few sentences.
Even this blog, which was once an impulsive decision made during my “cafe sessions” after my Medical school flop in 2015, seems to have lost its value.
I’ve made so many random, impulsive decisions since decided to leave Ireland back in October 2014.
In my head, this post sounds like the perfect declaration of cessation of any habits that have been going on for a very long time.
But that’s the thing: why do I seek clear, specific, detailed “turning points” aka epiphanies to set? Why do I need to declare that I’ve stopped something or started something?
There’s a lot to write about – CVEL? Why Change Now? Home Dynamics reshuffled? The “letter to my unborn child” that I’m too scared to start writing? Analogue vs. digital journal? Why did I stop keeping a journal? Why did I give up on habits that, in retrospect, carried so much benefit and substitute it with escapism? …etc.
This is a moment of clarity.
This is a rare moment where I look back at my life and smile – I genuinely smile – and it is worth a long pause.