I super wanted to do some writing to clear my head before I attempted to tackle my assignment. But now I’m not sure. I’m too confused and my mind is too clouded with thoughts to even begin. But, a reflection.
When deciding where to go in life, obviously other people do have an influence. Where do you draw the line between the love you have for someone and the need to be selfish? I’m not chasing an easy, simple or ordinary dream, and I know that, and am OK with it. But i know deep down i need to go off on my own and get it done. I don’t want to create the pain for someone else of not knowing, the pain that ultimately I may feel on a daily basis; and besides; I have always preferred to suffer alone.
I have a decision to make. It won’t be fun, or easy- But either way I feel i’m going to come out of it with a broken heart.
I’m such a drunk, cigar smoking, pining, heartbroken mess. I don’t know what to do.
Dstance from Suva to sydney: 3,218 km… It feels like so much further.
Oh baby; you are here for me more than ever but I have never felt this alone.
Hearing the unmistakable sound of the unraveling tape as my Husband packed up the last box of tableware, i straightened by back and turned to gaze at him. Placing my hands on my ever-expanding hips and adjusting my posture, I keep looking. He doesn’t know I am watching him yet. The way he takes his strong hands and wraps them around the bottom of the box, or the way that his eyes dart about the room, looking for any missed items. As he turns around to grab the keys off the table and yell ‘babe this is it!’, he notices my stare, and gives me his trademark cheeky grin. As we load the last of the boxes into the back of the sedan and lock the doors to the old Victorian house for the last time, my toes start to tingle. This is it. This is the change we have been waiting for. The car glides along the road for the 20km trip as we head west, to our new home, our empty street.
The thing that appealed to me when we purchased our first home was how green the neighbourhood was. How quiet, and how empty it seemed. It was bliss. As we drive up the still-dirt driveway I shot Joff a playful look, he gazed back at me, biting his lips in what I only assume is the anticipation that I can feel slowly rising in the pit of my stomach. The key slides into the keyhole perfectly, and the door creaks slightly as we wedge it open. Slowly pacing from the front of the house to gaze out the clear back doors I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. We are finally here, in our new home, we have worked for years, and all the hard work has finally paid off. ‘Can you believe we own this place?’ Joff whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around my stomach, only to be met with kicks by our growing daughter.
‘We are truly grown-ups now, no turning back’, I giggle in response, and turn around to kiss his bitten lips.
With a house of our own and a baby on the way; I can’t wait to see what our future holds.
How do I do this again?
How do I cope with being away from the person that makes me normal, the one that keeps me sane?
How do I not cry for hours?
How do I resist the escape of alcohol?
How do I get so used to it that I just stop feeling?
Oh right, Its night one. The numbness will come back soon.
On one of my restless nights, I had a friend, a relatively new friend; insist I am not as damaged as I think I am, rubbing my back and willing me to calm down and sleep. This got me thinking. Is it all in my head? Mental illness, they say, is in ones head; but I can’t help but think I have fabricated the symptoms of depression or anxiety, or my super destructive behaviour. Of course, there it is again, the self-doubt that eats away and tells me I am not good enough, that I am just fabricating the situation in my head to gain sympathy.
But in reality; why would I do that? Who would want their friends to see them crying, struggling to breathe and fighting a ridiculous mental battle? Sometimes, it is necessary, but for me, it happens way too often.
Maybe thats the reality, im screaming out for help but can’t see the symptoms within myself, maybe thats it, my subconscious trigger.
I wish I could work it out, it is crippling me.
I am very well known for self-diagnosing. I did have it once, Anxiety, and remnants still remain. It has this funny way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it, for me, always, when it is going to be the most damaging or incredibly inconvenient, when I am at the gym, at work, or out on the town. Unfortunately, all of these have happened. Today really got to me. The pressure of my job, the pressure that I am just not good enough, not skinny enough, not healthy enough. In my panicky, tears falling out of my face mode, I realized that all it takes is someone to calm me down. Someone, with a little understanding, someone that knows how it feels, to tell you everything will be ok. This is what I struggle with. It helps, when someone can grab my shoulders and comfort me, bring me back to earth when I am definitely not here. On a day that challenged my will in many ways, I need to thank my manager, for today, being that person, whether she understood or not, whether she knew HOW MUCH I appreciated it, and needed it, or not. With all the right indicators to go completely off the rails, she pulled me in, and brought me back to the person I normally am. Rarely, people understand how desperately I appreciate their help when I am mid anxiety, and may even not want it at the time. I hope they can start to understand that I don’t do it because I want to, I don’t think; but someone being able to bring me back, is everything to me.
Today is the longest day of the year. How are you spending it?
Trudging home after work to my apartment and flopping down on the couch, I looked at my housemate, my best friend, and gave myself permission to finally relax. ‘Want to do the groceries?’ she questioned me. No, I didn’t really, but I guess i couldn’t tell her that. A girl’s gotta eat after all. As we headed out the door in a frenzy of jangling keys, dropped wallets and chattering voices, the setting sun shined through the window and into our eyes. Sliding my sunglasses over my fringe to settle on the bridge of my nose, I couldn’t help but to think about how much I loved the sun. We drove to the local grocery store as I dreamed of the beach, the waves, the sun and the imminent wind, whipping my legs, leaving them dry and burnt. After fighting over the grocery load for way too long, eventually we made our way home, procrastinating from unpacking once we got there. After raiding the fridge for cheese and biscuits we flopped on the couch once again, throwing on a movie and enjoying the last rays of sun as they shined through the open curtains. Glancing at the clock, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that it was dark. At 5pm, the sun was gone from our sky.
I am glad, and thankful, to be living in the southern Hemisphere. But not glad, nor thankful, to be dreaming of the warmth of the beach on the shortest day of the year.