it occurs to me that i am a creature of habit. and i take it much too personally when routines are disrupted. i know it’s just me. i know it’s just expectation set by years of seeing it happen. i know this. i do. really.
so it’s very frustrating and makes me feel kind of hopeless when i do it. when a routine is changing for very legitimate and logical and appropriate reasons and all i can do is sit here and hug myself and rock and feel like it’s just a matter of time now before the worst thing i can imagine happens.
i can’t help it. automatically the internal whispers start…
‘see… you knew it would change everything.’
‘see… already it’s just absence and quiet.’
‘see… it wasn’t you, just your willingness.’
i fight back of course. hammer and snarl and anger, ‘shut up. you’re wrong. shame on you for even thinking such a thing.’
sometimes i realize just how truly torn i am. just how really wounded. and how likely it is that i am my own worst enemy, no matter how much i wish it weren’t the case.
the word for how this makes me feel is a simple one – despairing.