Cry

Who I Am?

Until the other night, the last time I cried was at the funeral of a friend.

I’m supposed to be in Paraguay as a Peace Corps Volunteer but I began having seizures just days before my departure and I was placed on medical hold for the next year. Each time I have another seizure, the clock gets reset.

So instead of Paraguay, I’m home.

Joining the Peace Corps has been something I’ve wanted to do for nearly a decade. It’s the reason I decided to go to college and earn a degree in Environmental Science. It’s why I got rid of nearly everything I’ve ever owned.

But I don’t think I really realized just how important joining the Peace Corps was for me until the other night when I sat alone in the dark, crying for the first time in years, thinking about my life and how nothing was what I’d expected it to be.

Not going to Paraguay as a Peace Corps Volunteer has destroyed my self-esteem and my identity. I’m left wondering about the future and questioning who I am. What will my life purpose be now? Will the world in which I’m surrounded be all there is to life … to work at a meaningless job so I can earn a paycheck to buy stupid shit I don’t need?

I want to be remembered for the wake of beauty I’ve left behind … not the trail of discarded objects from a life of mindless self-indulgence, consumption and materialism.

There has to be something more … and I believe I may have found it.

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