Well… what a whirlwind of the last month it has been. In the space of 4 weeks I have moved into a new house, finished up at my old job and started a new one. When I first got an inkling of how busy this time in my life would be, I anticipated that I would feel a little nervous but that the onset of the next chapter of my life would seamlessly guide me through. What has happened in actuality however, has been slightly the opposite. I’ve been feeling increasingly anxious, and on top of that a truly strange sense of homesickness has taken over my being. However, I keep reminding myself that I am home!
I expressed to my husband last night that I’m struggling. I spoke to him about a feeling of being completely out of sorts and lacking a centre of gravity which has meant that I feel like I’m just floating through each day. Right now, nothing feels familiar. Not the people I see everyday at work, not my office surroundings, nor my home. I’ve always thought of home as being a place of sanctuary in which I could retreat to, in order to hide away from the overwhelming sights and sounds of the outside world. But currently, we are attempting to renovate a house built in the 80’s and hence, everything is everywhere and it certainly doesn’t feel like a retreat.
As I’ve started a new job I’ve also felt an overwhelming sense of sadness of having left behind people who know and love me and who always provided me with a sense of belonging and a safe space. Moving into a new job, with new people, at the same time as moving homes has left me feeling rudderless and lacking that deep embrace of those who I find solace in. What’s happened because of this is that I am heavily relying on the support of the one thing in my life that has remained the same, that being my husband. I feel myself overwhelmingly clinging to that safe space and bubble that he provides and not wanting to step outside of it, even for a minute. I feel increasingly dependent on his presence and his love in order to feel steady.
Stepping back and viewing this situation with fresh eyes, I know that this is not sustainable nor healthy. I can’t depend on someone else to provide me with stability. I also know logically that this feeling will pass given enough time. But instead of forcing myself to put a smile on my face and pretend it’s all going swimmingly I choose to be honest and to allow myself to feel. I am allowing myself to grieve the last chapter of my life whilst slowly moving into the next one. I know it sounds like an odd context but so much of the human experience is based on relationships and belonging. I am letting myself go through that range of emotions in which moving from fear and trepidation and into the unknown feels incredibly difficult. I do know however that getting through this period of my life will allow me the opportunity for growth and learning and increase my resilience.
I also know that we’ll get this house done, over time and with increased patience. I’ve started to realise that I have gotten used to accessing things immediately and the concept of putting in hard work and nurturing something over time seems to be more foreign to me that I’d like to admit. For now, I have to sit in the uncomfortable. I have to take deep breaths and practice gratitude. I have to be kind to myself as I slowly move through this process of immense upheaval and change. I know this is all for the betterment of my future and I understand that. Moving forward, at least for the next few weeks, I need to find the things that bring me joy. I need to be brave; and I know I will be.
I hope that expressing this part of my life and being honest will inspire others to do so. I truly feel like my purpose in life is to promote a sense of vulnerability in the hope that this will somehow change the discourse of putting on a front even when we are dying inside. To be open, honest, and vulnerable is not a weakness, it takes great strength to reveal the things we struggle with.
I blog for Change. 