Ramblings

I’m just going to warn you right off the bat. This post is not about climbing, training, or anything like that. Furthermore it is not really for you, but for me. If you still decide to read on, be warned, it will probably make little sense… Now I will write about my trip to Thailand, and in fact I have lots of notes ready, but I will not write much about it now. There are other things I need to get out of my head urgently.

 

I feel like I am going to explode, or implode, don’t know which. There are so many things I want, to happen, to do, to see, to experience. But it seems all things chosen means losing something else that is important to me. I want my cake, and eat it too. But I hear life is not arranged that way. And it certainly feels that way. So instead of cultivating an attitude of abundance, I feel this tremendous sorrow for all the things I will inevitably have to set aside through priorities. And this sorrow leads to an overload, and I am unable to make any choices, indeed unable to do anything productive towards creating a positive future for myself.

 

My trip to Thailand changed my life completely. Mainly I met a wonderful girl, and fell completely, utterly, out of my mind, in love with her. And now my priorities are completely different. But the overwhelming challenge of balancing this relationship, with a career and climbing leaves me with a feeling akin to being repeatedly pounded in the gut with a sledgehammer. Now this post is probably all ready terrifying my parents, so I am writing a little yellow note to myself to call home when I publish this post.

 

I spent the time in Thailand avoiding all thoughts about “real life”, maintaining an attitude that it was not a temporary dream, but an actual reality. Then I come home and I am hit by the stomach virus from hell, laying me low for 5 days, and only now, after 6 days, did I feel more or less normal again. Weak, but normal. Well, normal and normal. Still being pounded in the gut with an emotional sledgehammer, but what can you do? Either way, this has given me a lot of time to think, and too much time to think, and no opportunity to do is never a good thing. Especially not if you have my particular history and disposition. You think too much, she says. And she is always right…

 

I walked for 2 hours today, thinking about everything, and I just can’t make sense of it all. I need some help. Monday I am going to a personal coach, and hopefully she will help me make heads from tails of things, and allow me to reach a decision. Then go all in, and all out. That is what I want. A target and direction. So I can stop thinking and just do. I am at my best when I just go all out and create results.

Life is about making hard choices. And everything has a cost. This is true for everyone. Even the most privileged of us must make choices. Why it paralyzes me that it is this way for me is completely beyond me. It is not like it comes as a surprise… The problem is like I said earlier. I don’t want to choose. I want my cake and I want to eat it too. But the sledgehammer in my gut is me contemplating the costs of the different choices. Hurts too much, makes it hard to breathe, and I just don’t know what to do. I can’t sit still because I feel like exploding or imploding, and when I get out and walk it feels better for a while, but I can’t walk all the time, and when I get back the sledgehammer goes back to work and the feeling returns. I am desperate now. Desperate.

This is probably way too much, and I doubt anyone following this blog wants to read this. But like I said, I needed to get it out of my head and out there. Even if no one makes it to this sentence, I needed to get here. I feel slightly lighter, but more importantly, I have put down my thoughts on something resembling paper, and I can come back to it later. Maybe it will give me slight respite from the thinking too. At least while I was writing this I thought about writing this, and not about the sledgehammer in my gut and the feeling of impending detonation. And that is worth a lot right now.

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