I’m afraid at the moment, and it’s unpleasant. Fear feels like the heavy coldness of a vaccine pushing it’s way through your veins. But it begins in your stomach and works it’s way out through your extremities.
I used to be afraid of everything, all the time. Only I didn’t really know it then. The absence of fear that came with the sky falling in was exhilarating. All bets were off, and there was nothing but the ghost of the anxiety that used to rule me. It was something abstract, that I could examine from afar.
My mum tells me she’s sad because she finally got ‘me’ back– the Lori she’s always known was still there, suffocating somewhere beneath all that heartache and guilt and trauma. I’m ‘normal‘ again. But the trade off is, I’ve discovered, that I’m suddenly afraid again.
Life has been comfortable and relatively easy for a while now. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t realise that. Didn’t bask in it. I didn’t realise how cruise-y things were until they suddenly became difficult again.
Speaking of which, I have at least five phone calls I should be making today. I have addresses to change, boxes to pack, last minute catching up to do. Schools and uniforms and paperwork to organise. Fingernail to bite, and stressing to be done.
Being an adult kind of sucks.
Eleven Nine days to go.