So this thing happened and now I am spouseless and jobless. I’m one of the many fortunate ones that were laid off due to Covid19. Also trying to meditate the shit out of dealing with all things ex. Not too much of a bad thing if you think about it. But a bit too much since they are both happening simultaneously. Also happening is the final leg of legalities that need wrapping up, on the relationship front that is. These things are bloody complicated. Both legally and emotionally. More so if you share a bundle of joy together. Oh the joy!
There are people a lot worse off than me right now. Thinking about that calms me down when the jitters start setting in. Also, I’m probably living in the best place possible, all things considered (Covid situation notwithstanding). That counts for something right? Right?
I’ve been the model child, even as an adult. Doing what is ideal, what is expected. Good grades, obedience, family oriented, putting others first, what have you. What went wrong? Wasn’t I supposed to live the best life ever? A job that’s secure, a family that’s well put together? Happiness should be oozing out of my picket fenced, whitewashed, flower filled cottage house.
Ding ding ding and the grand announcement – Ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately it has been found that the formula doesn’t work.
Because there is no friggin formula. There is no manual to life, to happiness. Life does have its way of teaching. Starting with a tight slap in the face.
I’ve decided not to be a pity party. But not feeling sorry for oneself in a overwhelmingly sad situation is damn right impossible. Compartmentalising comes in handy in times like these. Ha! Who’d have thought I’d be the one saying this. I still remember telling someone that I am incapable of compartmentalising – it is just impossible. Well, turns out life really does have its ways. And I’m learning. When you’re in existential crisis mode, you learn rather quickly.
You hit back the hardest when you have nothing to lose. Like now. I am pretty much backed into a corner with not a lot of options and nobody by my side. And I’ve been thinking and thinking and boy do I do a lot of it. I seem to have hit rock bottom. Well, it’s also scary to think that the bottom can sink further down if I’m not careful. So I try and look up and somehow teleport myself back to the surface. One breath at a time.
I picked up my stuff at work last week. Not that I had a whole heap there. Usually just a water bottle, a mug and a few books. I may or may not have shed a tear later that day, the closing of a metaphorical chapter and all. I’m usually not so sensitive when it comes to jobs, so, let’s blame the isolation.
On the brighter side, all this is making my creative juices flow. Nothing like a good crisis or two to get me going. So for now, I’m exploring new sides to me and my writing. If I’m coming across as cynical, sarcastic, sceptical etc., it is because I am. New flavours of the season.
So what’s the plan you ask? None. I’m going to give the spontaneity thing a go. I planned and it was going well, until it wasn’t, so. Right now I’m just hunkered down digging my heels in, refusing to back down, looking life in the eyes for once.