i've hesitated discussing
the plan. somehow, putting
the plan into words would mean acknowledging that the plan had ::gasp:: failed, and i wasn't ready for that. but i think i need to say the words - i think i need to let the universe know that i'm open to a new plan . . .
the fear of admitting
the plan isn't anything new. how many times as a child were we asked
what do you want to be when you grow up? i imagine i was not alone in hesitating to answer that question truthfully for a long, long time. i didn't want to hear the pitied "oh that's so ambitious" or the sarcastic "good luck with that," or even the realistic statistics of my chance for success. so instead, i'd answer with something safely achievable: i want to be an accountant, a lawyer, a teacher.
but my real answer, what i wanted to be, what i planned my life around was becoming an fbi agent. maybe that's anticlimactic to you, but to me, the appeal of being part of the most elite law enforcement agency in the world was unrivaled. i avidly read all the true crime books i could get my hands on as a child. my favorite movie growing up was FEDS (about two women pursuing a career with the fbi). its difficult for me to articulate exactly what sparked this desire: its probably a combination of helping others, feeling powerful, and being part of something so revered. and i was determined to turn this desire into reality through carefully executed planning and preparation.
almost every decision i made from high school on was made after considering
will this help me get there? my selection of college courses, my grad school program, my forensics training, my current job: all were strategic choices to help me fulfill my dream, my
plan. and i was almost there. i passed the personality and psychology profile. i passed the written exam. i'd aced the interview portion (which some professional recruiters consider the most difficult interview process in existence). i was in the best shape of my life. i was just a step away from heading to the fbi academy when the plan started to crumble.
the specifics of why the plan crumbled will be the subject of another lengthy post on another rainy day. but what started as sore muscles and annoying headaches has turned into knee-buckling migraines and muscle/joing pain so severe that sometimes i cannot walk up stairs. almost two years of exams, mris, xrays, blood tests, biopsies, and more, i'm not much closer to knowing what's wrong. but i do know this: knowing what i know now, i don't think my dream or my plan would have been any different. because its not necessarily the actualization of the dream that fulfills us, but having the dream - having something to hope for and work towards - that keeps us going. and that's where the implosion of the plan has left me feeling lost: i need a dream, and i need a plan. and i'm not quite sure where to find either.
i am starting to feel like myself again. halle-freakin-lujah. although i've only seen my new doc twice, she is the best doctor i've ever been to in my entire life. she's identified major issues that i've been struggling with for years and i'm already feeling better. she cares, and that makes all the difference. i'm thrilled, but also furious at all those half-ass doctors that kept brushing me off. i want to send them a scathing letter telling them where they can stick it. damned lazy losers.
