Something today has triggered a kind of pensiveness in me. It is one of those days, now, where the big thoughts, the ones I usually avoid, come bubbling to the surface and I begin trying to piece together all of the broken shards of my life that are holding me back.
I’m struggling. I suppose, upon looking closer, I’ve been struggling all this time. Even when things have been at a high point in comparison, they have not been easy. Nothing has been easy lately. Nothing has been easy since I moved. Nothing important was easy before I left. I feel like lately, I’ve been on the brink of something. Something that will pull me together. Something big and good and important. It feels as though it’s been coming for a long time, struggling to find its way here. But lately it’s felt close. I feel like I need it to come knocking on my door today, or I’ll lose my mind. All the while, I’ve somehow felt calm. I have been able to distract myself from those anxious thoughts. It is as if I’ve been standing in one place, patiently watching my foot tap impatiently.
But I don’t know what I want. I can think of specific things that would make me happy, but I can’t think of specific ways to have those things. I’m not sure where to go. With everything that’s changing, I’m afraid of staying here. I’m afraid of the ghosts that will follow me when important parts of my life leave me. I’m afraid that I’ll be walking down that street in a few months, where we had those drinks and talked about your family. I’m afraid I’ll go to that park and remember the time I was there with you, and it won’t look the same anymore when you’re gone. I’m afraid so much beauty of this place will be gone when your light can no longer reach it. I’m afraid I’ll be so much more than lonely. I’m afraid I’ll be truly alone.
On the other hand, I’m terrified of leaving. Everything I sacrificed to be here. Everything I’ve learned and everyone I’ve lost. An unspeakably large part of my life… What, wasted? Gone? No, not wasted. I don’t regret coming to this place. I think what I’m most afraid of is failure. I’m afraid of rejection and I’m afraid of forming more ghosts. I’m afraid that it will be like the day I realized everything I worked for up to that point, all of the tears and the toil and the love and the pain, it was really gone. The day I was told that yes, I tried my hardest, and no, it wasn’t good enough. I’m so afraid of feeling that again. I’m so afraid of feeling like I let myself down. I’m afraid of going home, and thinking of this place and every day reminding myself that I couldn’t do it.
More rejection. More failure. More ghosts.
I can’t find anything to grasp onto. I have no steady thought or goal or hope that I can anchor myself to when I start drifting away. I’ve always had something, but now I feel as though I’m trying to stand up straight, but the ground keeps shaking and I can’t find a good foothold. Every path before me scares me. I want things to be easy. I want something to tell me what to do. I want to know what will make me happy. I want to know anything at all.
I want to save myself and I don’t know how.