Water Under the Bridge
If it seems like I’ve been MIA the past couple of months— I have. Without getting into the details, I’ve found myself in a painful situation I never thought I’d be in and don’t want to be in. But, a friend recently said to me we just have to play the cards we’re dealt, even if they’re terrible, and that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been trying to keep my head down, play my shitty cards, and figure out my strategy until my next hand (is that how cards work? I honestly don’t know).
It was strange to start a new decade being in such a state of flux. While everyone was posting their end-of-decade accomplishments and goals, I was trying to get through each day without feeling the overwhelming amount of confusion and emotion that was coming to me in waves. It resulted in a lot of crying in the shower, early morning phone calls to my mom, and journaling like a teenager again. Plus, I’ve learned to compartmentalize better than ever. See, an old dog can still learn new tricks.
Am I terrified to be starting a new and scary chapter at almost 35 with a toddler in tow? YES. Do I know I’ll eventually be okay? Again, yes. If there’s one thing life continues to teach me over and over is the power of my own resilience. It’s awful and exhausting to have to pick yourself up after trauma, analyze what the hell happened, stitch yourself back up, ask for help, lose yourself for a minute, reinvent yourself, and still have a smile on your face along the way, but I’m also really fucking good at it by now. And this time I have to do it while raising the sweetest little boy whose whole world revolves around me. No pressure.
I also want to be clear that I’m not wallowing in sorrow. My heart is broken, my anxiety is terrible, but there’s also a clarity and hopefulness that comes in this sort of situation. Once again, I’m surrounded by the most supportive and loving group of people a person could ask for. And while I’m navigating things, I was holding down multiple jobs, pitching my dream project, and raising my son. It’s a lot, but a gal has got to accept responsibility and handle things.
My therapist has been encouraging me to write this blog post for some time now. I do agree that some of my best writing is done when I’m raw and vulnerable. But it’s also scary to put yourself out there in that way. The truth is I’ve always been an open book because that’s all I know how to be. Holding things inside just causes decay and resentment over time. Exposing yourself is terrifying and may turn certain people away, but it’s also really fucking brave. I guess if I had to choose a goal this year, I want to be brave. I want to take risks, ask for things, and not feel like my wings are clipped in some way— a feeling I’ve had for awhile now.
Hopefully as I settle into a new norm, I’ll be able to write more blog posts. I know I keep saying it, but I promise they won’t always be so personal, raw, or vague. I had plans to turn this site into a monthly newsletter of some sort with featured writers on a variety of topics, and maybe I’ll be able to do that at some point. But for now, I’ll continue to play this hand of cards and wait for what come’s next.