Yesterday’s epiphany–this is withdrawal!–was a profound one.
I went home last night and drew myself a bath. While I soaked, I looked up hobby ideas. From what I read about addiction recovery, hobbies come highly recommended. One article I read even stressed that they are necessary to “fill the void.”
I read articles about hobbies for women, hobbies for men, hobbies for 20-somethings who are bored at home, hobbies for smart people, hobbies for women who want to make money, and hobbies for people who suck at hobbies.
And yet, not a single one struck a chord.
In my lifetime, I’ve tried many different hobbies. Knitting. Quilting. Scrapbooking. Blogging. Bicycling. Cooking. Drawing. Bookmaking. Learning a new language. Roller derby. Running. Lifting. Gardening. Golfing. Video games. Journaling. Sewing. Reading. Hiking. Walking. Geocaching. Yoga. Pure Barre. I also owned a scroll saw for a week before I took it back, unopened.
And yet, if someone were to ask me about my hobby, I’d simply respond, “I don’t know.”
I saw on one hobby list that sex is considered a hobby. And while fun—no, I think I’ll scratch that one.
Recently, one of my favorite bloggers said that “finding your passion is self-care.”
Now that struck a chord.
Because I am notorious for bouncing between activities, hobbies, and sports. And I think a large reason for that is that I chose hobbies because I thought they’d make me something I wasn’t. Skinnier. Fit. More popular. More accepted. More approvable.
Instead, a hobby should enhance you. It should take parts of your personality and give them greater depth, and detail. And maybe that’s the crux of the situation–I’ve been codependent for so long, so enmeshed with other people, that I don’t really know who I am. And you simply must know who you are, what you enjoy, and what you don’t enjoy before you can pick a hobby.
It doesn’t work in reverse. A hobby does not make you. You make a hobby.
I think the kindest thing I can do to myself is try whatever I want to try. Without guilt or feelings of obligation. I should let myself “fail” and learn by trial and error about things I enjoy and those I cannot stand.
And not worry about what other people think. That’s a hard one for me, because I put a lot of stock into the opinions of others, still.
Whatever it is, I want it to give me a sense of accomplishment. A sense of skill. A sense of grounding.
This may be a long process.