Normally the distance doesn’t feel too far between me and my old world. Wait, that’s a blatant lie, it always feels like the longest distance in the world. And when I get really upset, about anything really ranging from mild to just inconsolable, I get reminded of how alone I am here.
How till now, there just aren’t any relationships here that compare. It feels like a dry oasis, and maybe during the day the dehydration hallucinations are enough, but as soon as there’s a moment of clarity, they all just disappear and then I’m the fool standing on a deserted island without food or a way to stay afloat slowly sinking.
I know theoretically that people are only a call away, but I feel the distance. I feel the fact that it isn’t as instant as before, that I can’t just see them when I go home, or that I can’t just chat with them on the way home from the bus, or while going grocery shopping.
My whole world has changed, and it does feel like a long distance back there. And when the bricks of the new world crumble, I’m thrown back into reality, in the middle of a hurricane alone.
But I’ve brought myself here, to stand here. And I guess you could argue that this feeling is my own fault, that I should have made more friends and worked on those relationships, that I should have explored more, that I never really embraced the change and the new world I find myself in.
But I still walk around and have moments where it feels like I’m on this alien colony and just feel this deep feeling that maybe I’ll never fit in.
I know it seems like I’m feeling sad and melodramatic, and I’ll give you sad, not melodramatic because, honestly, to varying degrees all of these feelings do reside within me. Sometimes it’s easier to deal and to stay positive and keep going. Because if there’s something I am good at, it is moving forwards and shutting myself down.
I had contemplated a lot before exposing this much of myself to this blog, but I thought, why not? It is mine still and while the words cease to belong to me when others read them, these feelings still exist within me.
In the past, I have been really great at shutting down emotional parts of myself, breathing, being occupied, and moving. It’s probably easier than it should be. But for some reason, it’s one of my first reactions to cope with.
I know this post isn’t happy and it doesn’t make me happy to write it, maybe relieved. But this isn’t how I feel a hundred percent of the time, it’s mini waves and this is just a moment where I am in the undertow.
It’s also written for the future, so even when you’re reading this, things may have turned up. But the undertow seems to always be the danger and ever present, in danger of being sucked in. And it seems like this is true for me too.