Time doesn’t always make things go away, cause feelings to fade, or even diminish the pain that will exist within your body until death calls for your turn.
As I sit here nearing midnight, having barely been diagnosed bipolar, having missed multiple days of work, having missed the first birthday of my dearest friends daughter. I sit in shame wondering why my life in particular feels so cunningly difficult.
The other path is one I am thinking of often as of late. To choose comfortable, with the same person for ten years, to choose a home we had, a life we built, to choose the emerald cut diamond with tapered baguettes… and as we sit there in bed one evening, I turned to tell a man I thought I loved, that I no longer wished to be in a relationship.
Away with all I knew. The familiarity, the consistency, the safety of knowing what was next, and being complacent to do so. It all could have been easy in some ways. Though, every path we take inevitably has its challenges.
Who would I have become had I stayed in the knowing. Which version of myself would I be, and what life events would have changed? Would anything be preventable? Wondering what if… maybe I wouldn’t have had to endure the trauma and pains I’ve thus far. But possibly a different kind of trauma. Argumentative, separation, infidelity, or to say the least, boredom.
Stuck is a feeling I’m all too familiar with. Not as if everyone in their lives haven’t been stuck a hundred, a thousand times. In this moment, my early thirties, feeling stuck in every which way. With my body, my mind, career, relationships. It seems all so cemented in one place. So what’s next?
The inflammation in my head, my brain, feels obscure and yet comfortingly habitual. It seems to be the one constant in my life, that I have a disorder, that never leaves me, and I’m in a loop battling how to stay steady.
What I seek is much more complex. It’s beautiful in a different way, intricate. There is history, and an obsolete presence in something shiny and new. While it too has its beauty in one way, the emerald cut with tapered baguettes holds a past.
The comparison to diamond rings feels so effortless, but then my life is so disarray.
with love, c.
The Draft Blogger 