Live by the Sun

I’ve thought often about this blog I started, and then shortly abandoned.

It’s one of the few things that is just mine, that no one knows about. I remembered how great it felt to post something just for myself, anonymously, becuase I wanted to. Every time it crosses my mind I think “not now” or “I’ll take the time to write when I have something meaningful or impactful to share”.

I just recently executed an across country move with my partner. I should feel joy being back in our home state, but I’m not quite there yet. The truth is, there have been a lot of things in my life over the last few years that much like this blog, have crossed my mind where the immediate cope is “not now.” The problem is, the time has come to welcome the “now” and I don’t really want to. I can’t bring myself to answer why, so here I am.

I’m never really been someone who has had felt like I had a grand design for my life. I was raised in a household where my parents sacrificed a lot for myself and my siblings, casting aside their goals and wants to ensure we had all the support we needed to grow and achieve our ambitions. I’m incredibly grateful for their sacrifices, but I’m realizing with age that I spent my teens and early twenties fighting to prove that I will make the absolute best out of my situation – no matter what it took. I couldn’t let my parent’s sacrifices be unnoticed or unappreciated.

The problem is, I can’t quite articulate what that means to my partner, and how many “things” are behind the path that has lead me to where I am now. Knowing your parents “gave up everything” for you is something that feels loving and endearing in your teens and early twenties, but now I feel angry. I’ve finally reached the “now” – back in my home state, new job, engaged, but I don’t feel happy. We’re living with my future in-laws and I feel guilt that they are retired and have a beautiful warm home to welcome us during our transition, while my parents still work full time to pay their apartment’s rent and bills. I know my parent’s decisions and actions are their own, that I shouldn’t compare the two situations, but I cant help myself.

I think the problem is, pushing off the things that needed to be addressed in the moment, and stuffing them into the “not now” box, has left me with a lot of open wounds. I feel like an imposter with one foot in my old life – stuck in survival mode like my parents, and one foot in my new life where my fiancé and his family are doing much better than most. They’re happy. I feel like if I lean into their life, I’m slamming the door in my parent’s face. I feel like when I call my mom to tell her what’s new, or to share recent events, she’s quiet and jealous.

All these feelings are rushing in becuase I am back in my home state. While the initial transition to live across the country was tough, it slowly became so easy. I was so happy. I felt free. I would feel guilt on occasion, but becuase I was so far away I didn’t have to feel bad for my lifestyle and decisions. I recognize that no one is telling me to not feel this way back in my home state, but it’s harder to avoid now that I’m staring right at it.

Something else I’ve battled for awhile is feeling like I’m good enough – that I’m deserving of this life I built. I’ve stuffed a lot into the “not now” leaving me with this feeling of impending doom. My medical history looms in the shadows of these thoughts too – whispering it’s possible I may not wake up tomorrow – so what’s even the point of addressing the not now?

If you’re reading this far let me reassure you this isn’t a Tumblr blog and I finally did book my first psychiatrist appointment. The longest open-ended “thing” in my “not now” box. I know I am in control of my own life. Eventually these things come to a head. I am happy in some regards, but as long as I carry this guilt and these burdens, I’ll never really feel like I’m living authentically. Here’s to hoping counseling will help guide me through this transition.

I feel a little lighter now. Thanks for being here. I’ll be back again soon.

– SS