I love you.
And honestly, I'm in so much pain, I don't know how to keep on keepin' on.
It's not only the physical pain, of which there is a lot, it's the emotional pain that's beating me down. It may be that the relentless physical pain isn't helping.
I've managed to make it five months living Off-grid, alone, in the Puna rainforest on the Big Island of Hawaii. Against all odds, and the opinions of most people, I've made it. I've survived my 24/7, 5 month long vision quest. And I feel like it has perforated my soul.
I'm tired. Tired of being sick, tired of being alone, tired of the rain, tired of not having a flush toilet, tired of no electricity or WIFI so I can work, and tired of being on a learning curve that even my stubbornness is failing against. I'm tired of judgments and resentments and being the never-ending trigger and catalyst for other people's shit. I'm tired of men who say they care, who extend a helping hand, then slap it when I reach out to accept. And I'm really tired of being blamed for how some people feel when they measure themselves against me and feel they come up short.
I'm just a quirky human, guided by an eccentric soul, who thought that this would be a good lifetime in which to push some limits and boundaries and rules, to cry when things got hard, then, almost as soon as things turn around, get back on my feet and do it all over again. And again. And again.
I'm afraid I've worn myself out. I'm afraid this vision of 30 years, of having my own healing retreat in the jungle, well, that it was just a dream. I'm afraid that all the planning, all the self work I've done, and all the good I've done for others, has been for naught. And that my thoughts of helping others was just an ego trip.
I really wanted to show people that if you set your mind to it that anything can be done. I'm afraid I may be proving just the opposite.
I wanted a community, but nobody stays. I wanted to help others heal by being on my land, and offering them the wisdom of my experience and education. Instead I have opened a rift in my soul.
I can't stand the alone.
My health and stamina are well below par. And my soul feels torn. The tears of grief caught in my throat threaten to choke me.
My beautiful and wise son says I'm just one of those people who lives my life soley for the human experience. I love him so much for understanding me so well, and for his total love and acceptance of me.
Normally you'd hear something like this in the middle of an inspirational book, right as things turned themselves around for the heroine on her journey. You'd know there was a promise of a happier ending. I'm sorry I can't give that to you. Not yet, anyhow.