Periods of Adjustment

Life is very boring right now. I am headed into finals week and I honestly can’t be bothered to be stressed. I think it’s the lack of driving. Driving pisses me off.

Due to abject boredom, I was working through some old photos and things from my phone and transferring them to my computer. I came across a screen shot I took probably a year or so ago:

I have no idea why I took the shot and less than that of where I took it. But I have to say, judging from my life, this is true (the number of days varying). Even changes for the better have left me anxious and fearful and doubting myself. How much more this current change?

It’s been about a week since I began to feel some semblance of sanity. I mean, I always have anxiety, it’s just a part of PTSD, but I had been starting to see the light at the end of our tunnel. I graduate in one year and we were finally going to get out of here.

I am no dreamer. I know that path is closed for us now. I knew it at the beginning of this quarantine. It’s not going to happen. And, if you can understand what it is like to be trapped in a situation like mine, you will see how bad that can feel.

So, what changed?

Well, I should start by reiterating, that I do not quit. I mean, I just don’t. It has to get pretty bad, like homicidal bad, for me to walk away from anything. (I count my mother and my ex trying to get me to kill myself as homicidal.)

I have the type of personality that does not look at the sunny side, I look at the realistic side and try to find a way to realistically deal with the problem. Yes, it sounds like hope, but it’s not. Hope is belief in the unrealistic. It’s faith. I have no faith. I believe that there is no divine purpose in life, so we must make our own purpose. There is something completely freeing about that for me.

I have a quote on the wall in my dining room (I hang these things all over the house, I’m pretty sure they piss off my ex…I think I’ll go hang some more.) It says something along the lines of “When things don’t go as planned, change the plan, not the dream.”

And so, I change my plans, I continue to make my own purpose, no matter who or what tries to stand in my way. It is why I am still breathing. If not for my faith in myself, I would have ended it years ago. It is because of that faith that I continued to question until I questioned myself out of my abusive family, out of my abusive marriage, and, ultimately, out of religion.

But, when the change first hits, it’s not easy, even for those of us who have come through far worse. It takes time to adjust to the new situation. It takes time to take in the new information, then to begin to sort through and process it all until it can finally be considered and you can do something with it.

And then you go on down that new path. Until the next thing knocks you to the ground and you start all over again.