I have an important language assessment at work today. I am ready for it, I know the material, I should do well. Except I am sitting in my apartment sobbing as I try to study, because I know the topic of family is going to come up, and innocuous questions like “how many people in your family?” are going to kill me.
I’m also sobbing in my apartment because a few days ago it felt like a lot of major pieces of life were slowly shifting into a good place, and now several of them no longer exist.
I was entirely incorrect about the crush I had before, and the sting of rejection weighs heavy on me now. I was wrong again, and the repeating pattern is somehow more painful this time than the last five.
A different friendship I thought I would have indefinitely imploded in a small, quiet, but irreparable way.
The holidays are creeping closer, and without warning, I started pre-mourning the fact that my sister would not be sending me a hailstorm of gifs on my birthday in December. I then started worrying about Christmas and her birthday and all of the other first things coming down the path, still.
I should be studying for this assessment, but I can’t.
I have decided that today I’m going to have to accept that I am not okay. As trite as it sounds, I have to also convince myself that it’s okay to not be okay. Just because in some ways I now live normally doesn’t mean I am not still grappling with immense pain and loss. I will probably show up to this assessment with red eyes and lacking my trademark smile, and this is my prerogative. No one can tell me otherwise.
And when I’m ready, I’ll put the smile back on, and give it another shot.
Unmoored Sister 