Since leaving my job in July 2007, I've struggled to find a new identity as a creative person through my writing. Sometimes, the writing has gone well, and sometimes not so well. Thus far, I've completed no single piece of writing that I believe is worthy of publication, so I continue to work on my craft and to look forward to that day in the near or distant future when what I produce is worth sharing with someone else.
On a personal level, my life often feels like it's all about Chris.
1. We returned to the Lower Mainland for his job, which made him happy but me not so much.
2. I'm dependent on Chris because I no longer have an income. I haven't earned anything since September 2007. This has been difficult for me. I've always made my own way in life, and I've certainly always made a financial contribution to our relationship.
3. I've very much taken on the role of the "housewife," so to speak. To support Chris, our breadwinner, in every way I can, I take care of everything in the house, as I wrote about previously. I figure if I don't earn an income, at the very least, I can contribute to our relationship in every other way possible. I believe I add a lot of value, which Chris confirmed this evening.
But who am I?
I'm not defined by my job at CIBC anymore, and I haven't exactly found my own way in life since. The focus in Chris's and my relationship right now is on him, which is as it should be, because the opportunities have been happening to him lately (just as they did for me in the summer of 2000, when we moved to Victoria because of my promotion).
But I feel, despite my contribution, that I'm still very much a background player. To some degree, I wish I was still upfront. I wish I played a more important role in our relationship, that I still earned an income, this time producing something that makes my spirit soar through my writing.
And perhaps the hardest thing for me now is the transition we're going through--first, moving to __________, and, now, the ongoing renovations that continue to disrupt our lives.
Here's what I think is going on: At the very least, if I'm having an identity crisis (and I don't think there can be any doubt that I am), my physical environment should cooperate. In other words, our home should be settled and comforting and safe, to help offset the confusion and inadequacy I feel.
Instead, our home is a construction zone, everything around us in disarray, and I feel like I'm getting it from all sides: I'm a mess inside and outside. Does this make sense? As a result, I'm even more confused about what's happening to me and what I really want in life. When one part of your life is messed up, another part should offer stability and solace, but that isn't happening, and I don't know how to deal with it.
I need to give this more thought, to understand it better, and to figure out how to deal with it. I have no doubt I'm meant to go through this at this particular time in my life, and, to be philosophical, I'm certain there are all kinds of lessons here, waiting to be learned. I'm just in the thick of it right now, which prevents me from seeing my way through it.
As always, I need to be patient, one of the things I have the most difficulty with in my life. And I need to be easier on myself. I know life will get better. It always does. But, right now, I could sure use some relief.