“Suddenly my feet are feet of mud
And it all goes slow mo.
I don’t know why I’m crying–
Am I suspended in gaffa?
Not ’till I’m ready for you,
Not ’till I’m ready for you.
Can I have it all?”
I am, and always have been, expendable to my friends. I’ve lost everyone I used to spend my life with because I got tired of being a placeholder. To this day, I remain the backup plan. I’m here until someone finds something better to do. I can remember feeling this way 5 years ago. And I don’t want to feel 14 again.
On Monday my time becomes even fuller than it is now. I’m scared. Not of the work, but of how it will make me feel. I remember once being so utterly overwhelmed that the thought of waking up would make me cry. If I fall back into that silly crap, then I haven’t come as far as I thought.
It’s a matter of testing myself again. Distress will be met with an ever-adaptable body, mind, and spirit. But I suddenly feel reluctant, tired, and full of dread.
As much as I tell myself it’ll be okay, I won’t really know until I’m in the thick of it and doing fine.
Things that will get me through the first few weeks:
-Coffee in the morning
-TV at night
-The knowledge that I’ve lost weight and am losing more
I think I’m usually pretty good at keeping an even head. But right now I’m on the cusp of huge changes and I haven’t fully realized it yet. I think if I had a proper grasp on it, I’d be fine. But I’ve waited until the last second to think about things, and now my emotional/mental equillibrium is going haywire. And external stress from family, friends, and love interests isn’t really helping anything.
Whatever. I’ll find a way to figure things out like I always somehow do. Maybe this year will end up topping the last. Here’s to hoping.