Derailment – the abyss

part i

I have begun the arduous climb out of the abyss I fell into this week.

A lot has been going on here, none of which is very interesting, but it did include a self-indulgent pity party in which I wallowed, and slept, almost continuously for several days.

Sorry (not sorry) you weren’t invited.

I’m about halfway out of the abyss today. And these posts (part i, ii and iii) which I started and edited several times over the past few days, deserve to see the light of day.

Or not. (Reader’s discretion advised.)

While I partied wallowed, I came to realize something. My current daily routine is remarkably similar to how it was before the pandemic arrived.

Lifting lock-down restrictions would mean little for me – I’m still going to be here doing more or less the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I make no illusion that the world has changed. A lot has changed, much of which will continue to prevail.

The new normal is going to be a different normal, and this is probably a good thing. Our earth needs healing. I think most of us believe this in theory.

But.

I feel a deep, profound sense of mourning on a level that is hard to explain.

Is it because I’m in mid-life?

Is this the same crisis from a couple of years ago with a new spin?

Or is this a new crisis altogether precipitated by the illuminating, introspective effects of the global pandemic?

I keep trying to understand. To hear the voice inside my head. To feel something besides uncertainty and sorrow.

Maybe it’s age related.

Perhaps when parents reach the age of offspring-detachment, they undergo a sort of awakening that pushes them to search for a newly-evolved identity.

I have (had?) offspring who began to step outside their parental boundaries in recent years. At 12 and a half and 15, that was considered a normal development. But those boundaries have tightened again while we shelter in place.

It’s like a step backwards, for them, but also, for me.

Although I don’t quite feel like I’m suffocating as much nowadays, I still fall down into these deep, dark pits periodically (see above, abyss and pity party).

When my son started high school last September, I saw myself standing at a fork in a road once again. I had some choices laid before me, and I contemplated some different routes to take.

There was a loosely-formed plan of action developing in my head.

I may have approached this plan with some trepidation at first, but over time, I discovered some emerging characteristics I didn’t know I possessed.

I found myself transforming, slowly, into a person I didn’t initially recognize.

But I kinda liked her…the pre-pandemic woman I was becoming. You know?

Now, she’s sitting on the sofa, chained to home and hearth. Again.

to be continued…

17 thoughts on “Derailment – the abyss

  1. It’s going to be interesting, when the opportunity to return to “normal” is afforded. I wonder how many people will realise that some things have been BETTER. The pollution in town has dropped significantly – the air is cleaner – there is no continual rumble of traffic in the distance. The few times I have set foot in a supermarket, it was quiet, peaceful, and calm – not the usual stressed idiocy.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The new normal will be a culture shock for some people…less cars on the road has been fantastic. Not just from the pollution side, but the few times we did have to drive someplace, there was no gridlock. It was…unusual. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Derailments happen to people who live (or travel) on trains … capable of only going where the tracks take you. That’s not your destiny. It’s belongs to someone else, not you.

    Get off the train. Off that path. Find an open road. An empty field. A blank place. An empty space.

    That’s where your heart and spirit converge, and anything else worth saving inside.

    Like

  3. Oh it’s such an odd time! I alternate between feeling frustration at being told what to do, to actually rather enjoying the fact that I’m able to write and read as much as I like. I wish my kids were with me, but as my chest is desperately tight and I cough, cough and cough again over here in the middle of Manhattan I’m rather relieved that they’re not. Thinking of you! Katie 💕

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Your sense of mourning is an accurate decreption…….having lived alone for a month now, I’ve never experienced such near tearful emotional mood swings, I’m beginning to understand what having a woman’s period must be like! Btw I’m not joking.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Exactly. The rug got pulled out from under us as well. Kids older or out of the house, a whole new perspective, and suddenly – reordering and shifting priorities and focus.

      It takes a little adjusting, or adapting, doesn’t it.

      Liked by 1 person

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