Losing it
As a recent grad, I have found life on the other side to be less than welcoming.
Getting a pass to the rec has been more than a bit of a process. Finding a job has resulted in the most emails I've ever sent to virtual strangers telling them how awesome I am. I'm alone more than I am with friends. I can't afford anything. And all of a sudden I have to power through every single day with the mantra below:
Things will get better.
And they have to right? After two very big and very recent losses (one emotional, one material) I'm left with this sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, things won't.
Get better, I mean.
I know, I know: stay positive, focus on your goals, keep moving forward, things will get better, but what does that even really mean?
In movies, it means that the heroine redoubles her efforts and comes back more determined than ever. In literature, we see the hero rise above and conquer, becoming wiser for it. But in real life? In real life people are left with this hollow feeling in the pit of their stomachs, a pain deep in their heart that is renewed with every rumination on the event or relationship in question. In real life people are left feeling raw and vulnerable and afraid that something worse is going to happen. Because bad things happen in threes, right? Bad things happen to good people, right? Because shit happens, right? And so in real life we're left waiting, looking over our shoulders so as to be prepared for the big let down, the next major heartbreak or the next home invasion, only next time--
Next time it will hurt more, you will be let down harder, and your will is a little more worn and tattered.
This is where my fear lies. I have slept a total of 6 hours the past two days, my sense of safety in my own home is broken (yet again), the set backs in my life so back setting that when I look out in front of me all I see is my past. All I see are the things I had thought I had figured out, all of the people I thought were going to be by my side for a lifetime, all of the things that I accepted as fact and didn't question enough (or maybe questioned too much) and I'm left feeling afraid.
Afraid to lose more of my will. Afraid to let go of what I had. Afraid to lose more of my self. Because it was all good just a week ago. It was all cookies and truffles and cuddles just a week ago. And now I feel like a bird in a cage who was thrown off of a building; so afraid of the bars that I won't go near them even though the cage is open and all I have to do is adorably bounce my way out with my tiny little bird legs and fly away from it.
What if I can't fly? What if a cat eats me? What if I don't find another home?
Even the bars you're afraid of are a comfort in a world of unknowns and best guesses.
That's where I'm at y'all. I'm happy to say that's it's not where I'll always be (time and my general nature won't allow it) but it doesn't mean that it is any easier to let go, to move on or be courageous in the face of such discouraging circumstances.
I know that I'm not ever going to get my laptop back. I know that I'll fall in love again. I know that I'm still going to be applying to jobs like crazy and that I'm going to find my way through this world with work that I'm passionate about, work that inspires me...
Things will get better, after all.
But I have a lot of decisions to make before I get there, and a lot of hard work and soul searching to do to make it happen. Pray for me.