Losing touch

Today I watched an episode of Boy Meets World. Shawn found himself associating with a group called The Center, headed by a “Mr. Mac,” an obvious cult leader who took advantage of kids who felt “lost” and “without purpose” by making them believe what he believed.

I’ve always loathed that idea, that someone could doubt their identity to the point where they felt they didn’t know who they were or where they were going. It always seemed so over-the-top to me for someone to claim such a state of disconnect and emptiness from the world around them. Now? I get it. Not because this television show bestowed me with some kind of wisdom I hadn’t previously felt. I hadn’t even connected my current state of confusion with the episode I watched earlier this afternoon until I began to write this.

I don’t even feel that far gone. I’m not Shawn Hunter, I’m not lost and seeking someone to connect me with myself. I just feel frazzled. Tired, but hyper-aware of myself. Worried. Generally okay though.

Before I began writing this I thought I would be completely unable to tie my thoughts together in any organized fashion. I thought I’d be making vague statements with seemingly no continuity while I ruminated on whether or not this has anything to do with my recent choices to approach writing differently, to turn my back on some of it and just see where I ended up. I suppose this isn’t the stuff of prize-winning essay writing, but I expected something more chaotic to leave my mind as I began typing. I guess that’s just another level of uncertainty I wasn’t aware of.

I know who I am, but I’m not entirely sure what’s going on.