I hate roller coasters. I don’t think they’re fun, and I don’t think they are exciting.
Every day provides a bit more clarity, but it comes in waves like a rollercoaster. At the peaks of the ride I can see the positives. I can see what my life will be like without her, and it is not such a bleak existence. During those moments, I’m able to see the situation outside of my hurt and analyze it in a way that can finally make some sense to me. In the depths, however, I am angry, hurt, broken and in a constant state of panic over how I’m going to handle losing something that has become like second nature to me. I’m hoping that with each day, the highs will grow to last longer than the lows.
The realization that there is nothing I can do to stop this happening, nothing I could have done, has given me the ability to stop fighting it. Life has a funny way of sorting things out, ripping up the roots you tentatively put down, and plopping you down on a path you never would have seen for yourself, but in the present circumstance finally can.
I’ve certainly spent a lot of time in self-reflection these past weeks. Where meditation has failed on account of my rapidly firing neurons, I haven’t fought it.I have sat and let my mind race in every direction until it finally settled on a way out. In the moment of heart ache and panic it is nearly impossible to be thankful for the experience; but if there is anything life has shown me along the way it is that these experiences where you’ve torn yourself apart, left the refuse, and rebuilt with what is left, are the best ways to find out what is really important to you in life. Self discovery is never an easy process, it involves a very honest, stark, criticizing look at yourself and it is painful. Human nature recoils at the thought of pain, and often this process wouldn’t happen if you didn’t have a pretty shitty situation push you towards it. But, if you let it teach you and mold you, someday you should be able to look back on this and be able to admire the person you became because of it. There was a point where I naively thought that I had put myself back together in such a way that I was done with this type of painful discovery. I think I realize now that it never stops. The self discovery is a lifelong process, or it should be.
All of this is not to say that I don’t still feel angry. That I don’t still have moments where I look at everything I have done in the past seven months here in Vancouver and the year leading up to it, and wonder if any of it was worth it. Clinging to the experiences, to the lessons, and the friendships I’ve gained gives me some peace in that respect, but I know it won’t be an easy time ahead. Being prepared for that hopefully means I won’t be entirely shocked by the emotions that I know are still waiting to be let out.
Every day is a new experience.