Pieces Falling Into Place

So I had a revelation while sitting up last night binge watching The Walking Dead and scrolling through my Tumblr dashboard. And forgive the Carrie Bradshaw like-ness of this question but:

Why is it that when it seems like all the pieces are falling into place for things to get better that we seem to become the most vulnerable? That we seem to get that awful knot in our stomach that gives us this gnawing feeling that something is about to go wrong?

Obviously, my mind has been running a few directions here lately in my absence from blogging. I’ve been on the workout regiment and keeping my calories in check. I’ve still been on the job search so to speak. In truth, things are just still the same as they have been.  My mom and I spending weekend together doing this and that around the house, going through our things and deciding what we want to keep, what can be gotten rid of, or what can be donated. It’s like a few summers ago I sold a family friend’s granddaughter all of my Barbie dolls except my Sailor Moon ones because I didn’t play with them anymore and because they were taking up space.

My mind just keeps on running around the idea of finally being in a space away from my mom for 365 days a year… Okay maybe not a complete 365 days, but most of the time we won’t be around each other once I have a job and all that. Now I spent most of my last year at college not coming home every other weekend. But still the idea of moving somewhere that I don’t have anyone close by to hang out with or spend time with – which was what really got me through the four and a half years of college – makes moving a weird notion.

On the one hand, having a place that I can put my mark on is a wonderful idea. To be able to decorate how I want, organizing things how I want, and to do what I want will be a nice change of pace. To have a space to call my own will be not only fun but a wonderful experience. It’s going to be a strange experience at first. Things always are. I had a rough first few weeks at college because I was so used to being with my mother all the time. It’ll be easier with Katherine with me, but still it will be strange to wake up on the weekend and not smell breakfast cooking. I literally will probably have to have three separate clothes hampers with labels for what colors go in which because I still have to ask my mom what she washes specific shirts in, but that is going to be a learning experience. At least I can say so far I’ve never turned a load pink.

On the other hand, it’s the idea of being alone that truly bothers me. I’ve pretty much kept a small circle of friends. It keeps getting smaller as I realize who really cares about me and who just acts like they care about me. Friends I believed really cared that are always like “Oh we’ll definitely come visit” haven’t made an effort at all. It’s not a big shocker. In truth, I’ve pretty much gotten used to the idea that I only really matter to a handful of people in my life. But it’s the idea of being alone that bothers me. I like company. I like to have friends over to have wine and dinner.  I like the idea of having my mom around.

But God throws us these curve balls to see how we thrive, to help us learn and grow as people. I’m grateful for any growing opportunity I’m given. And the last few months since graduating college back in December of last year and having walked my graduation ceremony in May, I feel as if I’ve grown a lot between the job searching and the handful of interviews I’ve had. I’ve just given it to God to put me in the right job position. I know that I have to apply for everything I can, but he’ll push me in the direction I’m supposed to go. I just have to follow his lead when he gives it.

But I believe that we as humans will always have the gnawing feeling in our gut regarding the other shoe dropping… The avalanche of snow that will bring the train to a screeching halt for a while. There are a great deal of us who are used to it. And we wait anxiously for that shoe to drop because we always know it’s right there, dangling precariously like Damocles’ sword and looming over every step forward we make. As I try to be a half glass full kind of gal, I realize that in recognizing this that I may not stop worrying over things, but I can use this to my advantage. Yes, I know the other shoe will drop eventually. In knowing this, I’m able to mentally and physically prepare myself for it.

And I think that’s what that gnawing feeling is really supposed to do, teach us to prepare for the inevitable shoe drop.

Well that’s my thoughts from my night a little sleep.

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