completing a month of trials

So it goes…6 months marked the beginning of month long trials, of stress, worry, and uninhabitable headspace. Safe to say now, looking back at it all it seems so trivial, so silly but at the time, when you’re living in the moment, the troubles you face feel like swollen rivers, banks overflowing with the deluge of crap that was unanticipated and unexpected, and you wonder if you’ll be sitting on your roof until the end of time, or if the current will wash you away, back out to sea and you’ll drown in the salty water of tears until you feel no more. That’s a bit melodramatic.

But the news is that the wedding madness is over – we’re relaxing in a house that’s not ours, dogsitting for the remainder of the week – everyone that was in town is now back out, and we have the peace, quiet, late night cuddles and smiles with knowing that through it all we survived. We have the assurances of a true best friend that yes, I think this is the person you’re meant to be with, with nothing but positive attributes listed on fingers like bullet points – we have a brand new laptop that blows my desktop out of the water, we have a future full of bright lights and stormclouds and rainbows and nothing but blue skies on the horizon. Sure there will be bumps in the road, but I’ve checked our suspension and our foundation and it’s sound – and what is life without the possibility of earthquakes. We’re riding in the wake now – at some point we realized we had an inflatable raft that handled the rapids with twists and turns and no small amount of heart-stopping, gut wrenching moments of stress where we hung suspended over a free-fall drop – but we landed safely.

It seems like, after my missing in action absence of a week I should have more to say, but I don’t. Not really. I could ramble for pages and pages and recount every last detail of how life has been – the ups and downs, the bad and good, the stress and paranoia and worry – the loneliness and isolation. But I don’t really feel the need. I think I’m finally starting to believe that the storm is over – although the physical skies are still dark and foreboding, the metaphysical, emotional skies are crystal blue, with no sign of rain on the horizon. I guess in the emotional state you don’t usually have warning signs, although in this case we kinda did.

We have a date tonight – I’m taking the girl out to a nice dinner to celebrate the completion of all of this, and to mark the beginning of when our life together truly starts. It occurred to both of us that we have never been together in a time without all this craziness. In the almost 7 months we’ve shared, it’s always been the madness…wedding errands and looming stress. But she said it best – that six months, while monumentus in and of itself was the month of trial for us. It tested our determination, our commitment and our devotion to each other, and now it’s over. We passed every test thrown at us, sometimes with not-as-flying colors as we’d like…we made mistakes, and made it up to each other. Now, at the almost 7 month mark, the good is coming. The beginning stages are already here, and I know from experience that it’s coming. I have a lot of faith in this – more than I’ve ever had.

As far as the rest of life is concerned – I still haven’t spoken to my group sister since our fallout two weeks ago. I’ve tried, I’ve made attempts. Nothing. I may have to face the reality that because I didn’t talk to her for 3 days and she tried to text me once, that she may be willingly out of my life. And I have to let that go. It’s just sad that she really was like a sister to me, and a sponsor, and a good friend. It’s hard.

My best friend has been physically struggling lately, and there’s nothing I can do to help her. I wish I could get her back to Florida in order to take care of her myself. Devon is agreeable to that, totally supportive. But I doubt that possibility is likely.

Work is still stressing me out to no end. To the point where I’m dreaming nightmares about overflowing stacks of paper that don’t get done, deadlines and lots of yelling. Every night. I know I need to do something, but after the 21st full time job responsibility was placed on my shoulders first thing this morning, and I’m struggling to juggle the other 20, I’m not sure what to do. Talking to my boss doesn’t help. No one that I’m accountable to seems to know or care the weight of expectations I’m supposed to not only effortlessly complete, but flawlessly as well, or run the risk of having to repeat them. In all areas of life aside from my relationship, which is resuming normality and peace, I feel as if too much is expected of me, and I’m disappointing those expectations constantly. It’s a heavy weight to bear, and to do it alone. I know I have moral support, but I don’t know what to do. I’m overwhelmed and underappreciated. That’s just the way it is, I suppose.

The rest of group is going well, although I didn’t attend this week, due to a prior engagement with a monsoon and a drive to the airport. I think that’s about it, really.

Back to the ground – and I am sorry for my absence in notes and in writing. I missed this place and it’s welcome comfort of home.