I have an awful habit where every time I’m not feeling all that ‘me,’ I tell myself–stop it. You’re in a great place, doing what you love, surrounded by awesome people, where the sun (mostly) shines and the weather is fantastic. So, stop it.
Usually, I do. Usually, I can.
It’s been hard, as of late, to convince myself to stop it. Because I’m surrounded by brilliant people, and most of the time I feel less brilliant than them. And, more importantly, it’s almost been a year (how) since my aunt passed and I still don’t quite know how to think of that.
It seems that with every entry I update here, there’s a chorus of “I haven’t yet grieved as I should have” behind all of my words.
I don’t know when I’ll feel like myself. Plans I had for the end of the month have fallen through, and for the first time in a long time I feel alone. Alone with my grief. Alone with my insecurity.
But, I’ve gotten my plane ticket for the end of May to spend a week at home with everyone I haven’t seen in a year. I’m excited. And I’ve got a final paper idea for one of my classes that’s just blowing my mind. And I’ve been reading poetry, finding words that express what I cannot express no matter how hard I try.
I just wanted to update this. Behold an entry with no style, no substance. Only honesty. I haven’t updated this often, because I haven’t wanted to grasp the words buried in my bone-rings, housing truths I can’t admit yet.
Soon, though. Soon.