It's been a while since I wrote, perhaps a little self-indulgently, about my overwhelming battle with change, but I feel the dust is finally beginning to settle upon this little life of mine. I'm about to step into my third week working in my new (temporary) position and am getting my bearings together before my foundations shake a little more and I start my new-new job in November. It's been a hard few weeks, but they've been difficult in quite a gratifying way. Short term pain, long term gain kinda difficult. It makes the anxiety easier to live around, and I'm prioritising rest above all else rn.
So we've been metaphorically sitting in this half-empty house for a couple of weeks, watching as temporary furniture is brought in and a patchwork of paint swatches appears on the walls. I still don't recognise most of what's here, and a lot of it doesn't bring me as much comfort as I'd like, but the foundations are solid. At work, I now have set hours and weeks and breaks which is something I didn't realise I needed so desperately. I have a structure which I can now build a life around. I have a schedule I can build a life around.
What do I fill it with? How do I spend these three hours each morning between waking and clocking in? Will I do yoga on my working days, or the days off? Where will I find contentment? Where will I find alone time? Where do I start?
For once, I am not in a rush to answer these questions. I work, I see my Dad each Tuesday, I have therapy each Thursday. I see S as often as I can. I have mini projects kept to the tiniest scale as everything feels like a lot right now, but at least I'm working on something. I journal when I can, I read when I can. I watch a lot of television. I take a lot of baths. And I forgive myself when I do none of it.
I follow the lead of the seasons. I am embracing autumn's every facet. I am beginning to fall into the rhythm of the moon. Good things are coming, and the promise of them excites instead of scares me. The blank page before me is beginning to excite rather than scare me.
So, the dust is beginning to settle on this little life of mine. I sometimes lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel, when said dust clouds my eyes and my mind. But I never lose sight of my own resilience, and that bitch has seen me through worse before now.
Written 18th October 2020, when I had a little more hope inside of me than I do right now. Note to self: just because I can't feel it rn doesn't mean it's never existed.
Post a Comment