Breathing

Those moments when life suddenly upends again, and you're facing nothing but freefall? That incredibly uncomfortable moment of omgwth? Completely there. Bottled up, quiet, but there.

As an adjunct/part time full-timer, this is my life. I may have work; I may not. I may be so busy I don't get to sleep for days, and then I'm left with nothing, bereft of the busy-ness that was just my life. Some weeks I may kill eighty hours, but others I may work ten hours. We're up, we're down.

I told Scott I think I'm standing on the edge of something, but what I have no idea. I think we're both facing this in our own ways. And I am, admittedly, quietly, reservedly terrified. My minds skirts around it, this strange invisible thing that lurks in my subconscious. Perhaps it's simple paranoia at the uncertainty. I feel better, though, if I continue to not face it. I'll glance at it in my periphery, but I refuse to look at it head on. But that ache, that squeeze in my chest? I won't face it either.

The scary things in life are like that, aren't they? If I can just ignore it, I'll be okay. I can keep all of the anxiety, the fear, the uncertainty, the doubt at bay. If I don't name it, it has no power. And really, can you name a ghost of a thing? Names create substance, and this is simply a feeling.

February is a tough month, but March inevitably brings change. That shift in the air, and perhaps it's just natural vibrations that I'm feeling. March is the seasons holding their breath, waiting for large things to happen. Fall is the lingering sigh of summer, but spring is a slow inhale. And maybe that is all that I am feeling.