In the past it's been a restraint, a coping mechanism, something to keep my brain occupied so it didn't wander off and discover what it was trying to distract me from. Now I see it as a warning that I'm overloaded, or suppressing something important I need to pay attention to, and that's the purpose of this post.
Yesterday I spent a few minutes reflecting on how awful I felt at the start of this month. Three weeks ago to the minute, I was alone in a hire car a few miles from home having dropped Tess at the airport for her flight home. We'd cried while we queued for her check-in. I cried after she walked through the gate and before I'd made it half-way to the exit. I cried again when I carried my bags up to an empty flat. I cried a lot over the course of the next few days and surprised myself a little; I hadn't anticipated letting her go to be so thoroughly painful.
A few days later, after much discussion and consultation and opinion-polling, we decided to make a go of our long-distance relationship. From my end at least, this was driven by two factors: first, amazement at and confidence in the scale of the feelings involved and the compatibility between Tess and I, and secondly amazement at the scale of the pain involved in ending our brief relationship.
It's hard for me to admit that part of the reason I accepted the idea of a long-distance relationship is because I was hurting so much from us being apart, but it's the truth. Saying it out loud sounds like I only did it to stop the pain, but that's not the whole picture - I saw the scale of the pain as a reflection of how much I felt for her and how much I didn't want to let her go.
Since we decided this thing was too big to let fizzle out into nothing, the whole of the last two and a half weeks have been much easier than I ever thought they would be. Our love and appreciation of each other will see us through, of that I'm sure, but I'm concerned about the emotions that were diverted when we decided to go for it. It was a little like a switch was thrown and I went from feeling anxious, stressed and pent-up to ecstatic, happy and loved in an instant.
That instant troubles me. It's great because it was the start of something wonderful and beautiful and I have confidence I've made the right choice, but it's disturbing because I know there was a truckload of suppressed emotion there that I'd not let out, not processed and put to the back of my mind while trying to get on with day-to-day life. Its scale was enormous, big enough that it seeped out occasionally in the form of tears and sobs and deep, strong longings.
I think processing that suppressed emotion is key because it currently feels like it's poisoning my mind, to the extent that I'm starting to get worried about slipping back into depression. Interesting that here I am, in a period where I'm supposed to feel happy and elated and wanted and loved, and I feel a little like I'm sitting on the edge of the abyss.
Something this is making me scared of, this darkness, is that I'm holding back on missing Tess. I'm afraid I miss her so much more than I'm willing to let myself see, and if I let it go it'll take over and diminish the wonderful feelings I have rushing through me much of the time. Alternatively, I'm scared that thinking I miss her more than I feel I do might plant the seeds of bigger feelings in that direction, and I don't know whether... I just don't know what I feel. I have no idea why I'm second-guessing myself on this - I'm finding it easier than I thought but is that because I'm holding back missing her or just because it's genuinely easy?
One thing I do know is that I'm holding out hope that she finds a way to make it here for studies sooner rather than later. I keep thinking I'm kidding myself if I think she's going to be here in a year or eighteen months, what apparently insurmountable things have to happen for us to be that lucky, and how...
Gah fuck. Overload.
Also, grey grey grey grey grey grey grey grey grey grey. Fucking grey. Piss off until November already. I want some colour back. The view from my flat is fucking depressing. Walking isn't as fun as it should be. All my photos look shit. Sort it the fuck out.
Jesus, what a foul mood. I don't know why there's this sudden turn to darkness but I'm already fucking sick of it. I do think I'm overloaded somewhat and I've kind of been using sticking plasters recently in the form of internet use and chats with Tess and music and things, and I need an outlet, and some sleep, and perhaps more exercise. I just want rid of it now, I've only had it for a short while and I can already see how much it's effecting my judgement.
Another post later, maybe.
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