Answer me this as it’s a question that’s been bugging me – why is it that you can’t go through life in a steady continuous motion, instead you’re pelted from all directions until you’re down and then you need to re-group before you can carry on again? I’m not even sure my question makes sense, so let me give you some context. When your life is steady and all is going well, you’re making time for hobbies, work is manageable, family is a-ok, you’re eating well and even getting in some exercise – when BOOM – from nowhere, you’re struck down. You don’t know what’s hit you, you just know that you’ve lost your way. Depending on how hard you’ve been hit will determine how long it takes for you to get back up again. In my case, the sign I’ve been hit is the messiness of my desk in my study. It sounds so trite as I type it, and I’m looking at my desk now – it’s been far messier, it’s also been far tidier. I’m in the process of getting up. By the time I’ve reached “messy desk” level, that’s when I realise that life’s been passing me by in a blur and I’ve been operating in auto-pilot mode – the hobbies haven’t been touched, exercise and healthy eating abandoned, family is carrying on as though I’m not even there (maybe because I haven’t been), friends have become distant, and the only part of me functioning is the part of me I take to work. How long have I been in this coma-like state, not noticing that life was still happening but that I had been felled? I’ve watched those tv shows where whole houses look like my study desk, where their occupants don’t know where to start in order to re-gain control. They must have been side-swiped for years without even realising, and then when they’ve come to they don’t know where to even start to sort themselves out and so they continue to live in their mess (until a well-meaning tv show comes along to help them).
It’s almost as though life is: (fine, fine, fine, fine, BOOM…. …. …. …. what the hell just happened? Look at the state of this desk, flurry of activity, not quite fine, almost fine, fine, fine, fine) x repeat
The part I struggle to understand is that you don’t see the projectile coming, or who has thrown it, or where it even hit you. You don’t even know how long you’ve been out for. That’s the frustrating part of all this. Is this menopalooza, is it depression, or anxiety or is it just plain old life? Do I take a potion, rub on a lotion, take a bex and have a long lie down? What is the solution? You know, I would be able to make sense of the pattern if I knew where the projectiles were coming from – an illness, family issues, work issues, or any of other big and little traumas that come our way. But when everything is hunky-dory, and then you’re sidelined – now that really pisses me off. That’s unfair and totally not sportsman-like. I don’t know what the solution is, but I know it’s helped to angry-type this out.