24 February, 2010

A new beginning

After doing much research on my maternal family, I was stuck in a limbo.  I was in college, a Catholic college at that, and I just never felt attached to anything.  I was depressed.  I felt like there was still a void in my life that no amount of drinking, partying, or other "extra curricular activities" could fill.  Of course, being an ignorant 20 something, I did nothing about this other than the above mentioned.  I graduated.  I found my first teaching job.  I met my husband.  I went through the motions of everything I was "supposed" to.  I hit a figurative wall: I couldn't sleep, I would panic over everything, and I could barely leave the house to go to work.  The constant burial of my anger and spiritual loneliness finally caught up with me.  I went on anti-depressants and sought therapy.  It's been a slow process, but I'm getting better.

So, how did any of this lead me to the path?  This past summer, I ordered 3 books on a whim from Amazon dot com: Scott Cunningham's Guide for the Solitary Practitioner , The Complete Idiots Guide to Wicca and Witchcraft (an excellent book, believe it or not), and Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft.  I was bored online and was searching through the recommendations and all three had come up (probably because of my purchases on Native American religions, but who knows?).  So, I ordered them.  And then I read.  Like a maniac.  Something finally clicked.  Everything that I had been taught by family was in these books.  All the morals I believed in, even the little herbal "tricks" my grandmother would use when we were sick, were in these books.  I was stunned.

I finally felt comfortable enough to approach the subject with two close friends who were Wiccan.  I asked them questions and I was given honest answers.  Talking about the emptiness I'd been feeling for so long felt so wonderful.  These were things I never thought anyone could understand, not even my therapist.  I felt better.  The missing puzzle pieces were right in front of me for years, but I'd ignored them.  I'd come home.


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