This is my first post in quite a while – I’m sorry for that.
This year has been a tornado – beautiful and devastating, unrelenting with brief periods of peace (otherwise known as the eye of the storm.) It has picked up the entire world, tossed it around until it is unrecognisable, and then placed it back down, expecting everything to just fall back into place.
It’s done the same thing to my life. Taken everything that was a comfort, everything that made me feel safe, and thrown it into oblivion, with everything yet to fall back into place.
So here I am – here we all are. Eight months into 2020. Eight months since the heartbreaking loss of my long-term relationship, which to this day still takes me breath away. Eight months living with a new deadly virus sweeping the world. Eight months since the devastating bushfires ravaged our country. Eight months after I left my job to focus on my health, only to have the realisation that it hasn’t gotten any better turn to lead in my stomach. Eight months of country-wide unemployment with a recession smothering us whole.
Eight months and so much has changed, yet I still feel trapped. Suffocating under a boulder of expectations that I have built for myself, for my life. Trying, and failing, to make sense of everything that has happened and to adapt.
In two weeks I turn 30 years old. At 30 I am unemployed, chronically ill, heartbroken and lost. But for some inexpiable reason, I am not afraid.
Yes, I feel suffocated and trapped. Yes, things are slightly shit at the moment. But for the first time in a long time, everything is wide open. I look towards the future and I see endless possibilities. I see change that isn’t heartbreaking, but that is meant to be. I see happiness. I see, and feel, hope.
I see freedom.
This year has been a tornado – but even the most devastating of storms has to come to an end, bringing with it an eerily quiet peace as we pick up the pieces.