Are you slowly Dying in a Comfort Zone
The base of this blog was written as a personal entry on June 23rd, 2022. I went back on July 8th to fill in a few gaps so I could share it as a blog. This is my personal story of slowly dying in a comfort zone and being awakened to that, which has triggered a true journey of healing. I don’t have all the answers but I do have a voice that I’m not afraid to use in the hopes that it may help someone else identify their pain points, their comfort zone, and spark an act of discomfort to break the cycle and start living again.
June 23, 2022:
Being comfortable is quietly killing me. I know this to be true because in this moment I am very much alive, and I just did, what I would personally consider to be, dare I say, a disgusting activity. I just ran 1 mile in 91 degree weather. The real feel is 99. So why, of all days, why today, could I run a mile, practically through water, and any other day I would have given up 1/4 mile in?
I’VE SPENT OVER A YEAR WITH CHRONIC BACK PAIN.
In this moment I feel nothing but true comfort and peace where that throb was just 10 minutes prior to my run.
I spent nearly every day last year trying to correct what was wrong, what I had damaged, what I had let go, what I had caused. Core exercises, drinking water, yoga, meditation, better diet, rest, chiropractor visits, massage therapists, heating pad, warm baths, Advil, weed, alcohol, vitamins. Some of it helped some of the time. None of it helped all of the time.
Most days all I wanted to do was rest myself back into health. I would “relax” on the couch, which managed to not make it better but allow me to sink further into worse pain, and as the days, weeks, months went on, a deeper and deeper unknown depression sunk in, which I had not realized on my own.
I JUST KEPT SAYING, “I FEEL LIKE SOMETHING INSIDE OF ME IS STUCK.”
There would be days where I would just drive around in the car and sing until I found myself screaming. Other days I would turn on music and start with some soft movement that ended with me aggressively dancing, stomping out moves. I had this new urge to sign up for kick boxing because I just needed to do something more with my body, instead I just bought mini trampoline. It was this weird building feeling inside of me that I was certain if I could just shake it loose or get it out I would be able to move forward again with purpose and passion even though I didn’t know what the hell that was. These activities would bring minor glimpses as to what that would feel like, but it would all build up again.
I distinctly remember the first day I had a 10 minute break from the ongoing pain that would throb and burn across my lower back. I had no idea this would only be month 1 of my 15 month journey. I thought if I got outside and went on a road trip to clear my head I would find peace. I didn’t. I found more burning, searing pain as my back pressed up against the car seat. After nearly 2 hours of back roads I found myself at the pier in Port Sanilac. It was chilly and windy as hell. I watched from behind the window as the 10 foot waves crashed and sprayed along the boardwalk, like an onlooker to life, but not anyone living in it. I decided I would get out and try to take some self portraits (my go to self therapy.) I zipped up my coat and pulled on my hood. The wind was throwing sand, the tiny rocks stinging my face as they hit. I kept walking until I could feel the spray of the water mist my face and I had this deep urge to stand on the edge and get doused by that wave, because why the hell not? I chickened out because I didn’t want to drive an hour home in soaking wet cold clothes, but I edged closer and let the sound of the waves and visual art of nature consume me. I took a few portraits that have since been deleted then packed up my stuff and ran back, fighting the wind the whole way, laughing to myself as the wind took my hood and pulled it down over my eyes. I slammed the door behind me, collapsed in the seat, looked at my mangled hair, took a breath, and felt not only pain free but absolutely alive. I actually took a selfie to remember the moment. I hadn’t felt that much like myself in I don’t know how long and it had dawned on me- I need more experiences that make me feel alive, that make me feel like me.
I had the realization, but I didn’t actively do anything about it.
IT’S ONE THING TO THINK SOMETHING, THEN LEARN IT TO BE TRUE, THEN ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
One day I was casually sharing with my husband how I felt, thinking nothing of it, and he said to me, “I think that’s called depression.” When I had stopped and thought about what I had just said out loud I realized all the describing words I used were in fact that. But I wasn’t depressed, was I? Yeah, I was in pain, but I was prioritizing self care, I was avoiding burn out again, I was building a new business I was passionate about, I had all my needs met. Sure, maybe I was a little tired, all the time, and sure there were days that everything just felt pointless, but there were good, fun days too.…
By the time I had hit the 9 month mark of chronic pain my insides started to crawl. I was not just feeling stuck, but now stagnant, dare I say dead inside. I had no wishes of death, if anything it was what I feared the most. I wanted more from life but the only thing that felt right was doing nothing at all (mostly due to the chronic pain), and even though I longed for purpose I was at peace with the emptiness. It was this horrible dichotomy of my being swirling inside of me. And after experiencing the worst burn out of my life just 4 years ago I didn’t want to put too much pressure on myself to push on.
I began to wonder if my pain was not so much physical, but mental, just trapped energy. I dove into chakra work, energy work, reiki sessions, dancing, movement, journaling, singing, body rollers and fascia, tarot readings on myself, you name it I probably looked into it. It was in minor moments of feeling alive and connected to what I truly wanted that my back would reward me with ease. I know this because I was constantly searching for it, evaluating it, seeking it’s approval, seeking it’s surrender.
13 months in I was starting to have more good days than bad, and for over a month I felt incredibly normal again, it was as if I had cracked the code, and then I relapsed. All the things that were helping I stopped doing and I fell back into the endless circle of dropping into my comfort zone, triggering physical pain, seeking physical comfort, repeat, repeat.
You see, to understand my pain I needed to understand my repressed desires, and to understand my desires I needed to understand my comfort zone that was keeping me from them.
FIRST OFF, A COMFORT ZONE DOESN’T MEAN COMFY.
A comfort zone can actually be a super shitty spot, it’s just whatever we’re used to. Comfy is a fuzzy blanket by a warm fire in a rustic log cabin where you feel at peace in the moment. Comfort zone is the avoidance of discomfort, even if discomfort would bring about healing, growth, and happiness, because discomfort is foreign, new, uncharted territory and there you might feel a little scared, intimidated, lost, or uncertain.
YOUR PRIMAL BRAIN WANTS TO KEEP YOU SAFE, IT DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU’RE HAPPY.
It’s job is to protect you, and if it witnesses your soul reaching for something bigger, something outside of your current comfort zone, something unknown, something that could be a risk it will do it’s best to keep your body safe and alive, even if that means your soul is slowly dying of comfort.
After 11 years of running a successful business my comfort zone was business, marketing, hustling. It was not speaking my truth so I could give my clients room to speak theirs. It was prioritizing money and validation over taking care of my home and my family. It was constantly explaining myself and filling the awkward voids with high, draining energy. I didn’t want to go back there ever again. I needed not just a break from that I needed to heal from that.
I SEE NOW I GAVE MYSELF TOO MUCH SPACE TO HEAL, AND FAR, FAR TOO MUCH COMFORT.
It is in this moment, and I can say this because I am speaking only of myself, and no one else, that the ongoing healing was the worst thing for me. Sitting in my pain, giving it so much space, time, money, attention, love, hate, my life. No. What I should have done was use that pain as a super power to push me out of my comfort zone and TRULY heal, use it as a catalyst to process, release, create, purge, be fucking mad, be sad, change, evolve, to FEEL whatever I was stuffing down, to experience it and to love it. But I didn’t. Instead I just felt pain.
Hell, if I was going to feel pain I should have gotten tattoos, ran a marathon, donated a body part, worked out, hiked a huge trail, taken a solo road trip. Anything other than lay in my pain. Anything other than go back to the very thing that I was trying to escape- my comfort zone.
My soul / subconcious knows what I want. But I didn’t listen for years. I resisted as if my life depended on it. My conscious brain swooped me back into my comfort zone and the only thing my soul could do was use my brain to send signals to my body to tell me to pay attention and wake up.
So why take a run? Because it felt right. In the book War of Art that I’m currently reading the author Steven Pressfield speaks of embracing discomfort. The old me use to say I loved comfort, that I was a creature of comfort, give me coffee shops, soft blankets, warm fires, and nice walks, but the old me also kept myself comfortable, small, safe, and often told myself what I thought I could or could not do. Years later after being pushed I found out I wasn’t a creature of comfort, I was scared, I was weak, I was intimidated, I was avoiding failure, avoiding getting hurt, and most of the time avoiding even trying.
How did the new me that has been through so much and has gotten so far by ditching my comfort zone forget that?
How did the new me fall back into that routine?
Why did the new me break down and go back to seeking comfort?
It wasn’t long ago I journaled about my happiness around comfort, like I was finally ready to embrace that side of me again, but I think that was just my ego trying to validate how I was feeling and how I had been living, because deep down I know nothing good comes from constant comfort. As I said at the beginning, it’s slowly killing me. I’m dying inside, I can feel it. Or… I was.
Today, I am reminded of who I am, what I am capable of, and how I have been letting myself get away with being lazy, too easy on myself, and using comfort as an excuse to stay small again, to hold myself back from what I really desire, because I clearly have more self doubt than I have ever been aware of.
Maybe I don’t lack confidence, I just lack the full capacity to understand and believe just how limitless I am when it comes to committing myself. I tell myself I can’t- I’ve proven I can. I tell myself I don’t want to- I know I do. I tell myself I don’t like it- no one likes discomfort, they like the final product.
I am in new uncharted territory. It’s different. It’s scary. And I want it so fucking bad. I’m finally listening to myself, and I am waiting to be guided.
BEING UNCOMFORTABLE REMINDS ME THAT I AM ALIVE.
When I dive into a full life of comfort I lose all spark to life. It’s easy. It’s simple. It comes natural. You wake up. You go to sleep. You float. And you keep floating until you die.
I DON’T WANT TO DIE. I WANT TO LIVE A VERY LONG, HEALTHY, HAPPY, AND APPARENTLY VERY UNCOMFORTABLE LIFE.
July 8, 2022
I just want to take this time and space to say thank you for getting this far with me and reading my journey. I hope that it has helped you in yours in some way. Know that there are comments below to share your story if you so wish, or my inbox is always open.
Second I want to reiterate and reassure you that I am ok. Anyone who truly knows me and deeply understands me knows that identifying, embracing, and sharing darker emotions that we all experience is a genuine part of who I am, and something that ironically makes me feel alive. It does not scare me and I hope it doesn’t scare you either. I take true comfort in acknowledging the darker side of life because even though it’s not always fun, there is true emotion and living in these moments too. Life is not always sunshine and butterflies, and it’s ok to not be ok sometimes. I find peace expressing these experiences and finding equal beauty in the raw emotion it surfaces that we can all connect over through honesty.