grieving the possibilities of what could have been
In my last post, I mentioned that I've felt like I was mourning something, grieving but I couldn't figure out why or what. There is no one answer for what I've been feeling lately, in limbo as I search for a job for next year, heartbroken over my grandmother's declining illness, and just in a general state of melancholia.
What I'm coming to realize is that each time an opportunity doesn't pan out or each time I wonder why an interview didn't go like I imagined or feel disappointed, I am mourning the possibilities of what could be.
It's clear that I need to think about this process in a different way, one that embraces the knowledge I'm gaining with each new experience, one that depersonalize it, and one that makes me a little less crazy. And I may need to shift my perspective, rethink my approach, consider possibilities I haven't before.
I can't go on this way, with all this pressure building inside me until I lose it. I feel like I've been on the edge, slowly unraveling, grieving the loss of possibilities and unable to imagine something new.
This is true for my heartbreak with Gran, as well. I am grieving what could have been. She is no longer the independent, snappy, and sarcastic woman from my childhood, and yet there are glimpses of her humor, her kindness. Still, I know she is changed in ways that she will not return. And I am incredibly sad for her, for my father who tries to take care of her, and for my family who struggles to make sense of her illness. So much that I thought I knew, that I thought I would always be the same just isn't and of course, life moves and changes and security isn't always where you thought you would find it.
Sometimes you end up in Wonderland and have to slay a Jabberwocky. Such is life.