I was having a conversation the other day and heard myself say the words,
"I am getting everything I wanted."
I know, right? Words I never thought I'd hear myself say. Words I never really thought possible, especially from anyone in my family.
But I said them and they are true.
I am getting everything I wanted. I wanted a job, I got a job. I wanted to move, I moved. I wanted a beautiful apartment, I got a beautiful apartment. I wanted soul-connected friends, I am making soul-connected friends. I wanted a
better job, I got a
better job. I wanted more money, I am getting more money.
And when I imagined those things before they came, it seemed like they were at some distant place in the future that looked like sunshine and rainbows and peace and happiness and perfection. I knew it was silly, and yet I half-believed it.
How could I not be happy once I'd moved out of my parents' house? How could things not be perfect when I was living in a gorgeous space of my own? How could I possibly be anything other than ecstatic once my life was not what it was six months ago?
And now, now. Six months later. I am sitting in my new gorgeous apartment that I share with two amazing women. And oh yes there is sunshine and rainbows and peace and happiness, for sure.....
.....but not every minute.
There is no station I've arrived at that instantly creates euphoria.
There is extreme overwhelm. There is intense transition. In the past six months, I've quit the job I'd had for the past five years, started a new one in a brand new city, commuted back and forth almost two hours each way for two months straight, had a really difficult surgery, met new roommates on Craigslist and moved in with them in Providence permanently, began a course of medication that severely fucked with my hormones for three months and still is, moved into another apartment, quit said job, started a brand new one. Aaaaaaand deep breath.
I've been deliriously happy, and I've been dejectedly miserable.
I've been on cloud nine, and I've been in the depths of despair.
I've felt sure and solid and purposeful, and I've felt lost and confused and scared.
My point is......it's okay to live in the overwhelm.
It's okay to be feeling all these things. I mean, if we were going through major life transitions and
not feeling a range of emotions, something would be off. This is okay. This is good.
There can be balance. There can be a softening. There is safety, always.
I'm not really sure why I wanted to blog all this. But I felt it needed to be said. I wanted it to be spoken. I wanted to share it. I haven't written here in a long time, and I finally just needed to force myself to do it. Because writing it helps. Talking to friends about it helps. The processing, the sharing......it's how I move through the overwhelm. (Along with quiet nights in with my Pandora cool jazz station...)
You know?
