I wish this was easy. I wish I could just flip a switch and turn off everything I've felt and thought and believed for decades. It doesn't happen that way. I don't have a toggle switch. The whole mess is a giant gray mess, not a black and white choice. I'm expected to be a grownup. I'm expected to accept what I saw coming but never wanted. Sorry, I am not going to be neat and clean about this. I am angry and sad and grieving and pleading and delusional and seeing clearly for the first time in years, all at once. What I am not is at ease. I wish I knew what is required to get there, but I have a suspicion that the price I will pay to find ease again will be high.
I reconnected with an old friend tonight. She's in a similar situation, but reacting quite differently than I about it. Parts of our conversation were comforting, parts were cathartic. We made plans to keep in touch, a ready-made support system while we go through this. I'm glad to have found her again. She gave me strength tonight. I hope I can do the same for her.
I started watching some old episodes of Dr Who that I had recorded, and the DVR brought up an episode I didn't have, on demand. It was the episode that explains the origin story of Melody Pond. It made me a little emotional to watch it, and even more anxious to go spend time in my own Melody Pond. (Although I did put a fair amount of chlorine in it yesterday, so that it stops actually smelling like a pond.) After a day like today, soaking in warm water may be the best therapy of all. If I'm lucky it might help me flip a few switches, and stop feeling so stressed out for the rest of the night.
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