Everything has been expansive.
A few months have past and things have changed entirely, a shift I said I was prepared for, but certainly wasn’t.
Previously, I tiptoed around the idea of these major life events that possibly would be taking place and sure enough, without hesitation, they creeped onto me with warning. I knew I was falling into this flow, this new life — it was a grand metamorphosis that grew onto me overnight, although I heard it approaching through its echoes. These types of things can’t keep their damn mouth’s shut! It was loud! And I ignored it’s calls!
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The day lingered, and came, and it went, and oh, how time flies, how it doesn’t wait or signal when it is approaching or passing or presently occupying your space —
It was the epitome of anxiety.
It was the anxiously waiting yet being too afraid to greet it at the door, or say thank you as it held it open for me, or showed me around, and told me where to put my belongings, or how to cope and deal and express how I truly was experiencing this experience internally —
Oh, no matter how many books I read or techniques I follow I can’t seem to be present.🗅 🗅🗅🗅🗅🗅🗅🗅🗅🗅
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I moved out of my parent’s home ten days ago. Excuse me? Yes! Ten whole days, ten whole nights, thinking about this is making me shake.
Where have I been?
My second night here I went out with some work friends, one’s who have helped me grow in ways I never thought I ever would. I am reserved, in love with learning but afraid of change, and I have done more changing in these ten days than I ever have (or, at the very least, a very long time).
I went to the bar, and experienced my first drunk, as alcohol is my biggest fear and I didn’t like how it made me feel but did, in fact, have a beautiful time.
We danced at a boomer bar, and clinked our drinks, and peed so many times I was confused at where it was all coming from. And I managed to sober up an hour or two later before leaving as I drank multiple glasses of free water, because I was too afraid to confront my friend Hangover the next morning.
I walked to Walgreens, as it is a two minute jog down the road, and I cut my finger on our front door and got externally paranoid and felt like it was the best option. I couldn’t imagine what tetanus is like in the twenty first century.
I attended my friend’s twenty-first birthday party, and had my first jello shot, but didn’t feel it even a tiny bit because I had a massive amount of chips and carrots in dip and to be fair, this was strategically planned on my end, as I do not like the feeling of being dizzy even on a small scale. I wanted to make her happy, and she was, and I was proud of myself for staying composed.
Dan has been a huge help with dealing and coping, especially while he deals and copes and handles his own life, which contains its own set of anxieties, worries, stressors, confusion, contrasts, melodies.
His mom is selling his childhood home as he moves himself into our new home, as his brother is coming back from Poland where he has been living and studying for the past three years, in the middle of this all —
Dan’s fish is slowly and painfully passing away from a disease we tried to avoid throughout his life, something so torturous that we don’t know if we should let poor Nessy suffer through in hopes he will make it or peacefully lay him to rest, a very hard and sad time for us both, something I dislike much so.
It all has slowly started to ease, though. As I attempt to settle into this new way of living I realized I am approaching this lovely calm, something that feels very familiar but also so distant; a bittersweet, heartwarming kind of peace.
I was definitely ready to let go, move out, move forward; I feel very thankful for all that is being presented to me.
I also feel very selfish for not taking it all in with such a positive outlook, for everyone has been so loving and selfless and it is hard to know where to place these emotions of mine.
It is cool to exist right here in our new home, a place to call our own and to grow and flourish in, separately and together. A place so open for learning and understanding how living and coping and letting go feels.
I am happy and fortunate and I think these emotions will always come first. Not following too far behind, though, is my nervousness that has been kissing me throughout this entire experience. Some things you just never outgrow.
