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redback_bites23I am floating. Drifting along, in a river. Feet not touching the ground. Feeling patches of warm and cool water as I drift through. Not drowning, keeping afloat, but not having any real control over where I am going, and not really being sure if that is good or bad or just is.
The past twelve months has seen me completely dismantle myself, who I am, why I am here and how I am me. It had to be done, for the sake of my health and well being, otherwise I am sure I would have not been able to keep living. I felt like I was like a suitcase and I had been jamming bits and pieces of clothing into myself and it had gotten all wrinkly and I had no idea what was in there. I felt like I needed to get all the bits out and look at them. Do some sorting, throw some bits out and do some ironing and put what needs to be put back in, back in. Look at my hopes and dreams and the stuff I thought I was made of.
I am at a point where things are unpacked, they’re lying in heaps around an open suitcase and I am terrified. Twice recently friends recounted situations where they had obtained some sort of gadget and after the construction of the gadget they had found a couple of spare parts left over, which left them wondering as to what the parts are and what they are for, and if indeed the gadget will not work, or suddenly collapse without them. I was once a functional gadget, extra bits or not but somewhere along the line I turned into a dysfunctional, overflowing suitcase.
I am looking at all the clothing, all the bits that go in the suitcase and trying to work out what I need to keep and what I need to throw out. If something is really me, or if it’s outdated and needs to be thrown out. Wondering if some pieces are really me at all, but being scared about throwing them out, what if they are essential to my very being and once gone they are gone.
I do know that not all the pieces are going to fit back into the suit case, this is both good and bad. I have realised that I have been carrying far too much and I can’t keep carrying it all. It feels like some of my hopes and dreams will never come to be, I’ve been carrying them for far too long and I have tried to make them happen, but they haven’t, and now the thoughts of them just cause me pain.
As I pack my new backpack up, I need to work out what to leave behind and what to take with me. Otherwise the contents of the suitcase will wrap around me in the river and drag me to the bottom.
The past twelve months has seen me completely dismantle myself, who I am, why I am here and how I am me. It had to be done, for the sake of my health and well being, otherwise I am sure I would have not been able to keep living. I felt like I was like a suitcase and I had been jamming bits and pieces of clothing into myself and it had gotten all wrinkly and I had no idea what was in there. I felt like I needed to get all the bits out and look at them. Do some sorting, throw some bits out and do some ironing and put what needs to be put back in, back in. Look at my hopes and dreams and the stuff I thought I was made of.
I am at a point where things are unpacked, they’re lying in heaps around an open suitcase and I am terrified. Twice recently friends recounted situations where they had obtained some sort of gadget and after the construction of the gadget they had found a couple of spare parts left over, which left them wondering as to what the parts are and what they are for, and if indeed the gadget will not work, or suddenly collapse without them. I was once a functional gadget, extra bits or not but somewhere along the line I turned into a dysfunctional, overflowing suitcase.
I am looking at all the clothing, all the bits that go in the suitcase and trying to work out what I need to keep and what I need to throw out. If something is really me, or if it’s outdated and needs to be thrown out. Wondering if some pieces are really me at all, but being scared about throwing them out, what if they are essential to my very being and once gone they are gone.
I do know that not all the pieces are going to fit back into the suit case, this is both good and bad. I have realised that I have been carrying far too much and I can’t keep carrying it all. It feels like some of my hopes and dreams will never come to be, I’ve been carrying them for far too long and I have tried to make them happen, but they haven’t, and now the thoughts of them just cause me pain.
As I pack my new backpack up, I need to work out what to leave behind and what to take with me. Otherwise the contents of the suitcase will wrap around me in the river and drag me to the bottom.
