I think this is going to be kind of scattered, because I am also kind of scattered (and also because it’s a quarter to midnight and I want to get everything out so I can sleep properly). Quite likely going to end up a bit more open with myself than I really intend usually but, well, it is what it is.
I never really learned how to let go of things a little bit. Everything always felt so final. When I was a kid we would have family members who came and stayed with us, but they were travelling all the way from England, so they would stay for a few weeks and then be gone for usually a couple of years at least; that was longer than my poor little kid brain could really understand or remember, so I was always convinced that them going home was the last time I would ever see them.
Just after starting Uni one of my friends moved interstate, and I was distraught because I thought I would never see her again and my parents wouldn’t even let me go to her going away party for some reason I don’t remember any more. As it turns out, we were in fact still in the same social group, Facebook kept existing and she turned out to be kind of a bitch anyway. A while later, another friend in that group talked about maybe planning to go study in Melbourne for a couple of years some time and I had a HUGE breakdown in her dms about it, because I clearly hadn’t learned my lesson; nowadays I haven’t seen that friend in over a year, despite living in the same city, and I don’t know if she does anything other than play online games with her partner any more.
I got better, a little. Last year one of my housemates and closest friends actually moved to Melbourne for study, and I had mostly learned that I would in fact keep talking to her, but her cat (very much also my cat in my heart at that point, and she still is) was unwell and in pain at the time and I cried for an hour after they left because I was utterly convinced she wasn’t going to survive the ~10 hour drive there. But she did, and she’s doing so much better in a new house where she isn’t tormented by other, younger cats - I get to go visit her when I’m in Melbourne sometimes, and getting to see my friend is a cool bonus.
Not long after that a new friend came to visit for a while, we got along really well and then I came home one day to find that it had gone home again. I cried myself to sleep that night because I thought I would never see it again, and now almost a year later it’s literally sitting on my couch while I’m writing this. But I still haven’t learned my lesson.
I’ve gotten into a really neat pattern over the last 1.5 years or so where about every 4-6 months I will meet a trans girl who inspires me to become better as a person in some way. Late 2023 I met someone from my city on Discord who drove me to actually take ownership of some of my issues and accept that I could do something about them. In about April last year I met a dog who made my bed for the first time in years; my bedroom is still a complete mess (the bed still doesn’t get made in the mornings) but it’s something I at least try to be conscious of and fix now, one pile of clothes at a time. About six months later I started seriously hanging out with a friend from my office, and she taught me a lot about how easily the things you want can be yours if you can keep your back straight as you walk up and just take them - not to mention, how to actually talk to people directly on Discord, because if you think I’m bad now I was much worse with new people a year ago.
And then there’s the friend I have only really started getting to know in the last month or so. Who inspired me to get back into writing and put some life back into this mess of a blog, who teases me for taking an hour to compose a simple Discord message and it’s working, who is helping me to break down some of the corners of my weird inconsistent spikes of perfectionism, who drives me to do or say something because almost anything is better than nothing.
The friend who’s starting a new job tomorrow and won’t be in the office any more.
Which I cried about, a lot, obviously, because I’m still learning my lesson, but the deep seated dread certainty that this is the end is a little less overwhelming this time. Because, respectfully, fuck that. If I am going to claim that I have grown thanks to the people around me then I can’t just fall into helplessness at the first sign of trouble. I am conscious of my problems, and my agency to take actions on them; the idea of not seeing someone I care about any more is terrifying, but I can look that fear in the eye and walk up to it if I can take something with me when I come back. I still don’t know how to let go a little bit, but I will just have to figure it out, because I can’t just let myself let go all the way on this one, can I? Keeping everything we can is going to hurt until we figure out a new stable equilibrium, but it sure fucking beats nothing.
The last week or so has felt, somehow, like the big final act of this plotline, but I’m not done writing - I have several half written drafts of posts from the last three weeks that I haven’t gotten out yet, dammit, this isn’t allowed to be the ending. Besides, this is real life, we don’t have season finales here, we have tomorrow. And tomorrow is going to suck, but we also have another tomorrow after that.
Good night, friends. Talk to you tomorrow.
Postscript: I couldn’t quite figure out the wording or the pacing, but it would be remiss of me not to mention one girl who has taught me and changed me and pushed me to grow more than anyone else has since I have known her. Who drove me to start caring about myself and take actions to lessen my own suffering, who supported me to follow my kind-of-insane dream career when I was a depressive mess, and who has been in many ways responsible for me meeting all of the others I wrote about here. Love you elle~
