01:36 and darkened bearings

My under­stand­ing was always as fol­lows, more or less:

  • You spent your early 20s not really know­ing what you were doing, but that was okay because you didn’t really care that much as you were still young;
  • In your late 20s to mid 30s you were find­ing your feet, estab­lish­ing your­self in life: in work, in a secure social circle, in your home, in a rela­tion­ship;
  • In your late 30s and into your 40s you’d be, well, I sup­pose some might call it ‘set­tling down’. I don’t think I’d refer to it in those terms, but I cer­tainly always ima­gined that in my 40s I would feel rather more estab­lished and, most import­antly, at least some­what secure and groun­ded.

I don’t. Not in the slight­est. The ground seems to fall away beneath me whenev­er I attempt a nervous, wary step for­ward. As for secur­ity, I long for some­thing — and yes, occa­sion­ally someone — to hold on to.

I am over­whelmed and abso­lutely ter­ri­fied by the lack of cer­tainty in everything — abso­lutely everything, I prom­ise you — that com­prises my life. Home/accommodation, fam­ily, friends, work/career, fin­ances. I don’t know which way to turn, mainly because I’m not entirely sure I really have a way to turn. If even just one of those found some bal­ance, some sense, it would help.

Root­less, ground­less, search­ing, lost.

And that’s why, as now, I so fre­quently don’t sleep, but instead lie awake in the dark­ness, exhausted by tired­ness and bewildered, vir­tu­ally imprisoned by those all-con­sum­ing fears.

I need peace.

Comments: 4

    You need a plan.

    isabelle | 10.04.15, 13:13

    A plan can only be made when you know what’s pos­sible and have con­fid­ence in those things. When someone feels no cer­tainty in the core ele­ments of life (home, com­pan­ion­ship, fam­ily, work, fin­ances) you can’t make plans because every step of the plan would be mean­ing­less. If you think your car might conk out, don’t know if you’ve got enough money for pub­lic trans­port and aren’t con­fid­ent that any­one would be happy to give you a lift, mak­ing a plan to travel some­where becomes impossible.

    What Vaughan needs is under­stand­ing, patience, care and as much prac­tic­al help as can be giv­en. Maybe with those things plans might then become pos­sible.

    Stephen | 10.04.15, 15:52

    Yes, of course you’re right Steph­en. By plan I was actu­ally mean­ing prac­tic­al help.

    isabelle | 10.04.15, 16:18

    Thanks for your thoughts, both. Genu­inely appre­ci­ated. And for still read­ing, you brave souls…

    ‘Plan’ is an odd word. It can mean so much and yet also mean so little. Up until, per­haps, 3 or 4 years ago, I always had a plan. Often more than one plan at the same time. I was full of plans. But — dare I say it? It sounds like such a cop-out, I know — after a while, when every plan seems to get knocked off course and onto the rocks, you get rather weary of mak­ing them. Or you become weary for your­self, at any rate — until a couple of years ago I was still busy mak­ing plans for who­ever approached me need­ing help, diving in there and dig­ging them out if they needed it.

    Plans also require a ground­ing, a firm found­a­tion, which I genu­inely lack at the moment.

    Some­where in the back of my head there are lots of plans, I can prom­ise you that. But if I’m to drag them out I want to do so not onto sand, but at least onto a base made of con­crete (even if the con­crete isn’t quite dry and sol­id yet). That’s some­thing I don’t have right now — and haven’t for a while — so the only plan becomes man­aging to get through each day.

    An Unreliable Witness | 10.04.15, 17:47

Sorry, comments for this entry are closed at this time.