On a Rant.

I had to check what day it was. My memory has been shot, lately. I don’t know why, all I can do is list concurrent factors: my flat was renovated and my boyfriend moved in; nothing is in the same place as it was; there’s empty spaces where we’re still saving to put something there; many things are still awaiting their place; the things that do have a place may yet be moved around to a better one; I don’t feel settled.

Quality sleep has escaped my nights as he tosses violently in his sleep. At least, it feels violent; it isn’t. Its 95 kilos of a six foot man rolling over and I’m jolted from my sweet slumber. I groan inwardly and go back to sleep, but the damage to my unbroken reverie has been done.

My symptoms have expanded, I’m anxious now and becoming irritable. My recollections are swiss cheese and I’m constantly unfocused. I worry I’ve lost my grasp of living in the moment and being present for the people I care about. I yawn frequently and seek to lay blame. I change my diet to fast until lunchtime, perhaps the effort of digesting the morning meal taxes my body’s ability to focus before midday.

I reflect on this recent upheaval and am confident my pointed finger will find its mark. My certainty wanes and it dawns on me this past few months is not finite. Recent chronology stretches back and back and I realize change has been the real constant for a time longer than I want to admit. I am tired.

I mope inwardly and seek comfort in old habits: salty carbs and weekday wines. The ingrained habits of my New Life™ habits seem to be limited to Good Vibes Only. I’ve been asymptomatic of the depression that controlled my youth now for 18 months, the same period of time for my greatest successes in career, finances, health and relationships.

I’ve worked hard to get myself from minus one to zero and having steered my life out of the disaster it fell into, the water has never been so calm. I feel like I’ve exceeded my own modest expectations having achieved going from zero to one and yet I am bewildered as infinity stretches out, invitingly, toward me. I’ve never stood here before and it’s beautiful.

I’m at a loss to explain what’s happening to me now. Everything is completely new, the frames of reference I know no longer apply. My ship, in a new ocean, still needs to be steered by me. Writing is my map, it always has been. Despite my neglect at this deeply important skill, writing somehow shows me where True North is. Its up to me to keep looking at the map to keep me on my right journey.