Today I have been torn between giving up completely and being excited about some sort of future on my horizon. The past two years my life have felt as if it were on pause, with only the dreadful acts playing out, and even then they have done so in slow motion. I never once imagined I would be able to look at years of my life as a waste, or a disappointment. I do not mean to sound so negative now, as I am sure I have learned more than I even know at this moment from all of those months. I am just to the point where I want to scream, “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH” and damnit I want something good, something pure, and something worth holding on to.
Now it is as if my fingers are looming over the play button. I wonder if I have the guts or the power to push forward. Sometimes I feel I have no energy to move forward, and the anxiety that keeps my chest in lockdown mode makes even the simple act of breathing a laboring task. When my anxiety takes over my body, my brain does not have any say over how my body reacts. I know, logically, that my chest is not closing up on itself, that I am not so physically drained that I cannot keep moving forward and that even if that all were the case there is no time to stop. Not now, my time of waiting is over, the future is coming up and if I am not careful, I am going to go into it fumbling the way I have the past two years.
I am not sure how to prepare myself for this next change, because no matter how I look it at it feels as if I am moving backwards. I have no choice but to stay with my mother for a few months, and I cannot even begin to explain how depressing, embarrassing, and humbling that is. Not to mention the woman and I can only get a long for ten-minute intervals at a time. So here I am, a grown ass woman, divorced, with a dog, moving back into my mother’s… only this time I will not have any of the comforts of my own home, and nothing of my own to offer me any sort of stability. And for fucksake I am tired of not having anything stable in my life.
I find myself so angry and under so much stress that I want nothing more than to hide far away from everyone, and everything. All of the people that have encouraged me, and are cheering me on to get my life back on track… all of them, and their damn questions, I can’t fucking take it anymore. No, I do not know what I am going to do. Yes, I have ideas of what I want, and no, I do not know, yet, how I am going to get there. I am frustrated and overwhelmed by the complete drowning knowledge that I cannot stay here.
Here is not my home anymore.
I cannot hide here anymore.
I have to move forward.
I no longer have a choice.