How are you? How are you doing?
Fuck. They feel like SUCH loaded questions right now.
99% of the time people want to hear the standard answer:
“I’m fine thanks, how are you?”
But I can’t lie. I’m not fine. That being said, I know that 99% of people don’t have the time or energy to listen to how I’m really feeling. Maybe they don’t care, maybe they are busy, maybe they don’t have spoons, maybe they are at work, maybe they were just asking to be polite.
I’ve started answering this question with:
“The same. It’s always the same. I’m always the same.”
Until I get the verdict, I’m not going to be fine. I’m probably not going to be feeling better, and I don’t have the energy to lie about it.
I’m feeling grumpy today. I’m feeling grumpy because I just want to cry when people ask me how I am. I want there to be space for me to not be okay. I want there to be space to just not function for a while.
I came home after a long day. It’s cold outside, unseasonably cold for May. I was shivering. It was time to eat. I decided to make myself grilled cheese. Comfort food. What could be simpler?
I burnt the shit out of that sandwich. So burnt it wasn’t even possible to scrap the black bits off the edges. Throw it in the garbage burnt. I wanted to burst into tears. “You can’t even make a simple sandwich!” screamed the self critical voice in my head. Somehow this burnt sandwich became a symbol for everything I feel isn’t going right today.
It’s difficult feeling lonely. It’s difficult feeling like the one who is never “fine.” I feel like I’ve been losing friends or driving people away from me because my life is complicated and I’m not always easy to be around. I feel like I’m whining, complaining, self-absorbed, wallowing, not being grateful…lots of self criticism. I know I’m doing the best I can. It just never seems like enough.
In all likelihood, there are only a few more weeks of waiting left. Things are going to shift in my life soon. Potentially in major ways. I’m so close to the end of this chapter of the journey. I’m so close I can almost see the finish line. I can almost reach out and touch my new life.
But it’s just out of reach. It’s blurry and uncertain. After 3.5 years in court and almost 14 months of waiting…a 16 month long total (and counting) trial process…it’s actually no longer possible for me to clearly visualize or imagine it being over. I used to fantasize about getting the verdict. Where will I be when I get the call? Who will I tell first? How will I feel? What will happen from there? So many unknowns. In a way, waiting has become normal for me. In another way, it has never felt normal. I’ve never adjusted to having so little control over my own life.
It’s a unique situation. Very few people in my life can relate. It’s gone on for so long, very few people still have time to listen to me talk about it as much as I feel I would like to or need to. Everyone around me is tired and frustrated too. Nobody knows quite what to say. I understand. It’s been a long journey.
I’m so close to the end. But I’m not fine. I’m burn out and I’m afraid.