At the seams.

I spent last night in a haze of conflicting emotions. An overwhelming sense of responsibility dictated that I do certain things. An aching body suggested that I should take frequent breaks and stay healthy. Mounting frustrations caused me to argue with Rob, then feel a chasm being built between us. Love had me hanging onto Riley’s and Micah’s every move. Loyalty persuaded me to brainstorm on the upcoming two weeks, and the maelstrom of drama that is sure to erupt because of my maternal grandmother’s death. Bad attitudes and shameful vices of my loved ones sent me spiralling down a tunnel of pity and anger.

I was a wreck. I didn’t get anything done except give myself a headache and pass out in front of the computer screen. And now, in the light of the morning, having barely recovered from the mental and emotional anguish of last night, I’m picking up the pieces, giving out my apologies, and hoping that if I step one foot in front of the other, take my time, and do things right, everything will turn out okay.

I know the expression is “Bursting at the seams”, but what I feel is a melting. Slowly, surely, somehow securely the parts of me that have existed are falling further away from my core. The tethers that used to snugly keep them in place are withering away and being replaced by something harder and more durable. Something sturdier. Something more reliable.

I’m not sure what to make of this change. I feel in my bones that it is necessary and inevitable, but I have no idea what it means. I’m not sure what it will entail. I have no clue what I’l look like when this metamorphosis is done.

Will I still be a nursing student? Will I be single? Where will I be living? Who will I be able to count on? How am I going to take care of myself and my children? What will I physically look like? Will I go back to smoking and drinking? Will I need another tribe? Will my loved ones accept me? Understand me? Love me? Where will Rob stand at the end of this? How will my children be affected? How will my parents be affected? How will my outlook on life be affected? Will I be better, or just more seasoned? Will I be happier? Lonelier? Upset? Depressed? Will this change lead to post-partum depression? Should I attempt to make this change while living in the Philippines? Would it be better to wait till I get back to the States in order to make this change?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

I have no idea what it all means, except that I know that it’s good for me. So I’m doing it. Now. Here. Even if it kills me… I have faith that I’ll rise from the ashes, better than ever.

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