Earthquakes all round

Scenario 1

Imagine you’re walking on a beautifully tarred road. The road is without potholes and its markings are always freshly painted.  The hills, dales, twists and turns, while sometimes large, aren’t insurmountable. Walking on this road is wonderful –it’s a great workout, safe and fun, with interesting scenery and interesting people walking with you. Up ahead, you know someone is preparing this awesome road, but it seems to happen when you’re not looking.

Scenario 2

Now imagine that road is struck by an earthquake. This earthquake devastates the road. It’s reduced to a path of rubble.  You need to be careful where you put your feet, make sure you don’t slip and fall. The up side is that there’s someone there to hold your hand, someone you can lean on, who can show you the best spot to place your next step. You’ve also got a million things to distract you from the state of the road, so its broken shadow of its former self doesn’t freak you out overly much.

Scenario 3

Now imagine that this person disappears and leaves you in charge of guiding other road users. Yip, while you’re floundering on dangerous ground, often in your high heels, you’re now expected to make sure other people don’t slip and fall.

It’s a pretty apt description of my life over the last 8 weeks. It’s the main reason for my absence from blogging. There have been just too many things to deal with and I’m rather good at burying my head in the sand when I don’t want to deal.

However, I’m not one of those people who can ignore this type of thing for ever. I’ve dealt with, or at least I thought I had, some of the emotions of the earthquake. I’ve spent 7 weeks (it took 1 week to get over the shock of the earthquake) distracting myself with planning, organising, applying for a promotion.  This method has kept my emotional rollercoaster away from those scary climbs and falls.

Today is the first day of Scenario 3 and there’s a big part of me railing against the change. I knew it was coming and I prepared as best I could, but still feel a bit like Jack clinging to one of the Titanic’s floating doors, immersed in an angry, ice cold sea.

The rollercoaster is in full swing and I’m finding it hard to keep my composure in public for any length of time. This post isn’t helping with the composure, but it’s a necessary part of my rollercoaster maintenance.

I long to feel safe and secure again.

But, like the people of Japan, I will pick myself up, rebuild this road and learn to be a better person in the long run. It’s just gonna take some time, so please bear with me.