Once I’ve written out the darkness and had a big cry and carried on like a child in a temper tantrum for a bit… I feel better. It’s not so much hopelessness as helplessness. And once I realise that, I’m just irritated with myself… really, after all that’s happened, what do I have to be afraid of? A state of the mind is simply that. There is no reality, only perspective.
But it’s still this annoying head–fug that won’t go away; an itching, anxious boredom. A feeling like I want to move, to flee; not in terrified panic, but more in exasperation. I want to find somewhere wide and open an achingly beautiful and run, feet barely touching the ground until I am out of breath, spent and exhausted enough to collapse myself, my body that is pumping with blood and irrefutably alive folding into a sweating, laughing heap. I want to scream and have it echo and bounce back at me from far off mountains. I want to feel small and insignificant in the face of the Universe. I want to recognize my place in the world, stop being so f*cking self important.
It was The Most Amazing Man In The Universe’s birthday this weekend and I run away with him. I take him to Paradise and drown in the solitude and the sense of calm he brings. It feels selfish… it feels, some days, as though The Most Amazing Man In The Universe puts up with a lot. Like he has to prop me up so much, and I’m too depleted to give much back.
That sucking feeling, that sensation of being a thirsty sponge of need. He promises me it’s not that way, that he absorbs as much from me as I do him from him. And because I trust him so, I believe him…. and I sink into him, the sensation of laying next to him still feels like healing.
I feel like a wreck, a mess right now– shuttered somewhere between daybreak and darkness. I tell myself, over and over, to just shut my eyes and hang on tight- nothing ever stays the same for long.
And it doesn’t. Paradise works it’s usual magic on me, and three days of laughing and and talking and walking and being loved does intense wonders for my soul. We run, up and down paths cut into a walking track that’s really more a tourist destination. I lay on the lap of the man I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with on the dark coolness of the beach and stare up at a universe of stars; and I feel tiny, no bigger than a speck of the sand that dusts my feet like icing sugar.
I pick out moments where I am happy, floating on the purest moments of just being; and I string them onto a long wound thread that I can wrap tight around my hands on the nights where the world feels lonely and I miss him.
I feel cleansed again, lighter. I start to take a proper look at myself, at the circles I seem to be running myself in. I start to move a bit toward happier again- it feels like it’s time to start making decisions again, rather than just going with the flow.
As I tweeted this morning, I am trying to have an epiphany… it’s just that my three year old keeps interrupting me. I’ll keep you posted.
Nothing ever stays the same. And things, again… they’re changing.