Friday, July 01, 2016

Everyday I write the Book

It's a very quiet, lonely 5 am on a Friday morning. My dogs are outside, my cat is hiding out and I'm listening to a very mellow playlist on my phone. Bits of a brilliant pink sunrise are peaking through my windows, and another day is about to start.

I normally enjoy the quietness of this time of day, but right now I'm so off kilter it's hard to enjoy much of anything. I spent much of the last month at the hospital with my mom, consumed with her care. June is a fleeting thought, because I didn't live it. I was there, but not present or fully engaged.

Every month is a new chapter, something I've been saying for years. It's July now, a chance for all sorts of possibilities. In fact, I'm not writing a new chapter-it's going to be a whole new book.

My identity is changing. Not in a witness protection program kind of way (even if it was, I couldn't tell you), but in a "this is who I am now attitude". It's hard shedding skin-especially ones that I've held onto tightly for half my life. Starting over is terrifying, especially when there's so much at stake. It's even more difficult  when the future looks so scary and unexpected. Even harder, when this isn't the path that you chose and you have no control over it. You just need to accept and follow blindly. 
That is not one of my strong points.

I have so many to do's that need to get accomplished. I need to completely reset my life, mourn the loss of what's happened, grieve the death of dreams & expectations, then pick up the pieces and move along. It's very unsettling and scary for me to think of the future I had planned and realizing that reality is very different. I thought I'd be walking off into the sunset, living happily every after in my fairy tale. Now I know that it's not reality, and happy endings are a work of pure fiction. 

I don't handle change well. At least I know it's a struggle for me. It's going to be a struggle too, figuring out who I am now, because who I was is now WAS, in the past. I'm not that person anymore, nor will I be ever again. I also have to figure out where I fit into the grand scheme of life, what my new role will be. I can't consume myself with the what ifs or trying to reason everything out. Logic and reason have no place in this anyway. I just have to dust myself off, put on my big girl panties and move along. 

I think of myself as a very practical person. I do best with a few guide stones and a framework to work within. Right now, I don't have that really. I've got the markers of uncertainty, depression, anxiety and fear that are keeping me penned in. Watching hope and optimism wither away and die is agonizing. They are the last 2 things I clung to through it all. Once they are gone, there's nothing left. Anger is on the distant horizon. Hurt fills in the empty spaces. There are a lot of those, and it goes into my bones and my soul. The hardest part though is the silence. 

I know I'll get through this and be stronger than ever. That's how I roll. I'm already learning lessons from this. I've realized that the list of those who've got my back is surprisingly short-and not entirely who I thought would be on it. I guess I'll be walking a much lonelier, solitary path. Some of those I've turned to previously aren't meant to be part of this journey or have shifting priorities and alliances. I've got an incredible amount of fortitude. I had no idea the vast quantities and reserves I've had under the surface. The amount of pain and suffering thrown at me lately hasn't knocked me down yet. My priorities have been established. I'm fleshing out who I'm going to be. My new favorite biblical hero is Job, because I can so relate to his story. 

Mine is still being written.

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