I just got out of a shitty situation. And that has put me in a precarious position. But, instead of getting in a mood or a panic, I can't wipe the silly smile off my face.
You know those circumstances that you so desperately want out of, but you don't have a plan? The ones where you hold on, hold your breath and wait out, holding out until something better comes along. You hope for a smooth transition, an easy escape, a graceful exit, wanting to avoid acrimony or catastrophe -- even at a high cost to you and your sanity. You spend your time trying to find the bright side, clinging on to whatever is positive about it, no matter how miniscule, to make the suffering a little less soul-draining.
Yeah. That's been the last year of my life. But, fuggit, now I'm free!!!
I'll admit, my first reaction was indeed panic. But that only lasted a few hours. I had a tiny pity-party for one, but it so halfhearted, it wasn't even worth uncorking wine. The fear was simply a knee-jerk reaction. One of pragmatism. Perfunctory. Something that needed to be done just to get it out of the way. Once I did, the dread disappeared and the grin moved in.
"You seem fine. Really good," my friends have said. "Actually, you look great. You're, like, relaxed and...breezy."
It's been a long time since they've seen me. The true me. Not the one bogged down by BS. It's been sort of a mixed reaction of, "Who are you?"/"Where have you been?". God bless my friends. These are the people who regularly talked me off the ledge, let me vent, cheered me on and held my hand. They were going through the wringer with me. Or, more like I was dragging them along. I owe them a few rounds. To start.
When you're in such a sucky situation, it can grow ominous. You feel cornered to a degree. You aren't really rendered powerless. You know what your options are. It's just that they don't always seem very attractive. Besides, you are strong. You can tough it out. Deal with it until you can pack that parachute and make the leap. Sometimes, though, you need a shove before you find the guts to jump. And in that moment of freefall, you regain perspective. Observe your options. And realize what a dope you were to put yourself through all that agony. (And your friends, too.)
Rebirth is just too cliché. Renewed sounds like a skincare plug. Re-energized is vaguely reminiscent of a fuzzy, pink bunny. But I do feel a bit of each. The anchor that was weighing me down for the past fifty-four weeks (yes, I was counting), has finally been cut loose. I can breathe. And I can finally move on.