“And I wonder when I sing along with you, if everything could ever feel this real forever. If anything could ever be this good again?”
~ Foo Fighters, Everlong
I’m the sort of woman who wants to have all my shit together, emotionally speaking. I feel confident that I do a lot of the time, I’m emotionally strong and aware. But lately I’ve become a bit unsteady.
I thought I coped with change quite well. But on deep reflection, I don’t – I am a creature of habit. I have lived in the same house for eight years, worked at the same organisation for ten, and seen the same doctor since I was six. I want routine, familiarity, stability and the knowledge that tomorrow will be relatively the same as today. I prefer creating my own change – paving my own path and creating forecasted excitement for myself. So when I don’t have control over the change in my life, I struggle. I’ve struggled. I’ve cried There’s been too much change to cope with this past month.
I tell myself that I’m lucky to have a full life – but I can’t kid myself, that’s not enough. Right now my heart is heavy and so are my eyes. Things change all the time, right? I’m mature, strong and smart. I’m strong and positive in all other parts of my life, so I feel I should have my shit together in this situation. And so I feel that my inability to cope with change is a weakness.
I’ve written farewell letters – both to and on behalf of – and writing these was like writing eulogies. As I wrote I thought of the past with fondness and the future with fear. I don’t want to do this without them.
Losing influential people is hard. Only they’ve not gone anywhere, except away, and I’m still where I am. I don’t know what’s harder.
I can’t deny the fact that this change (among other factors – good and bad) has affected my skin. I’m the sorest I’ve been in months. I’ve been getting headaches more than three times a week – I usually get a headache once a year. I’ve been worried. I’ve had a short fuse and am trying too hard to please. I’ve had to talk myself into positivity. I hope this is temporary because its no fun being unhappy.
I wonder about grief. I have definitely learnt someone doesn’t have to die for you to experience it. There’s definitely a sense of grief here. I haven’t vocalised my feelings until I’ve written them here. It hurts to write this, it’s been the type of writing that leaves me tasting tears, feeling I’ve run a marathon. Maybe I’ll talk to someone, or maybe these words will be like a bird released?
I can see some blue sky out there, I can. Things have even been surprisingly enjoyable since. I just need to get back that steady feeling of knowing my place.