This summer is tough. Both too much and too little to do, too much time alone, working, thinking, and not enough time to get everything done. Lonely, bored, pissed off, stressed, highly strung, and this is what it’s like to be well. It no longer surprises me that I am well; I am thankful for it, when I remember to be, but it no longer gladdens my heart to think, thank goodness I don’t feel like that any more, because actually, this life thing is pretty hard work, and I can no longer allow myself to sit back and say, I can’t do this today, because these days, I can do this today, or tomorrow, or almost any day you care to name. I can do it, so I must. Crawling back under the covers, whilst tempting to all of us at times, is no longer an option.
No, instead I am unhappy and short-tempered and stressed and I have every reason to be, for all manner of reasons, but I just have to get on with it, there’s very little I can complain about and very few people I can talk to about all these nebulous, niggling little things.
My life is not going in the direction in which I wanted it to go in, and I feel like a tanker out at sea – it takes more to turn around than just a quick flash of my indicators and a turn on the wheel, we’ve got hundreds if not thousands of tonnes here, and it’s pretty tough to get them all facing in the right direction. And I’m doing it, slowly, but I am fed up of being strong, looking organised, and smiling. I want to stomp about and shout a bit but I don’t want everyone to hear, so I don’t. People living in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.
I’m having to learn that it’s not always easy to be self-confident, it’s something you have to work at. It’s all well and good when you’re looking good and doing well and the people around you give you the positive affirmation to keep you going, but it’s harder when you’re not doing so well, your hair is somewhere between two lengths, and the people whose good opinions you care about don’t care to voice them any more.
And didn’t I say I’d always be honest, here, always talk about exactly how I felt and why? And am I not doing more or less the opposite, putting up a front, explaining and saying little except to those who know how to read between lines and even then there’s little of my soul bared here. Tough. I guess that’s what it’s like to be a grown-up.
On the upside I am now eating and sleeping enough. I have a job, and I enjoy it. I got confirmed just over a month ago. And we have a working shower and Lady Grey tea.
You’ll feel better when you know the outcome. Uncertainty can be terrifying.
Tanker out at sea syndrome can be horrible. I hate it but that’s where I have been for the past year. “So what next?”
The thing is to do what you need to – in my case, plan what’s next. Get a plan and see it through. You’re still here, ergo, you have worked way too hard to let it slip now – that’s what I’ve been saying to myself.