June 27, 2012 by NH
My partner is gone, and a new government is taking my job.
I’ve stopped writing. There has been nothing to write about. Everything has seemed so bleak.
That this all happened in the months after my thirtieth birthday is neither here nor there but somehow it seemed unfair.
Since my last post I’ve done things I’m proud of and not so proud of.
I finished uni, finally.
I yelled at my boss and cried at my desk.
I quit coffee.
I organised a graduation / thirtieth-and-a-half birthday party for myself, which was a great idea at the time, but now seems pointless and self-indulgent.
I’ve learnt to live with less – less clutter, less sugar, less love, less expectation, less food, less writing. Less physical contact.
Despite my whinging there have been good days in the past six months; so many good, bright days.
I’ve learned that I can ask for help, that I have amazing friends – old friends and new friends – who are thinking of me and asking after me when things are bad. I’ve learned that it’s okay to sit in tears in silence, that smiling is not always possible.
Late one night I texted one of those friends, crying, asking him to tell me that everything would be okay.
He told me that it was a shitty time, and that it would pass – and that everything would be okay – and I believed him, and things started to improve.
They’ll keep improving and soon I won’t be looking over my shoulder so often and maybe I’ll start writing again. Who knows.
I guess anything could happen. There’s beauty in that thought.