Birthday love.

On Wednesday it was my birthday. I turned 23. I have worried for quite a large chunk of this year that I was not going to feel very happy on my birthday. I thought I would feel lonely and scared and sad. Maybe that's a little bit silly, it is only a birthday after all, but I find them quite significant. It is the marker of another year that I have lived through, new milestones that have passed, new pains, new joys. It is a reminder to be thankful and that the world keeps on turning and that I am still here, still breathing and being. 

I was worried that I would be sad and that it would all be a bit of a flop because of all the sadness and anxiety over the last year. But this year, on my birthday, I was reminded of all that is good. I can even say, quite confidently, that it was one of the best birthdays I've ever had despite the fact that it happened in lockdown during a global pandemic. 

The thing about my 23rd birthday is that I was reminded quite overwhelmingly that wherever I am in the world and wherever I end up going next I am and will be loved. There were a lot of people who put a lot of effort into making the day special for me, my parents especially. I was thrown a Zoom party by friends I have only made in the last few months who were determined to celebrate with me. Two of them even performed a rap they'd written for me, which is something I never would have predicted for any birthday. I was given flowers and cake and bottles of fizz and cards and presents that had a lot of care and thought put into them. I felt spoilt, if I'm honest. I felt gloriously joyful and thankful all day long. I felt so loved. I felt, so completely, the opposite of loneliness. 

This is not to brag, though perhaps I am boasting a little bit. This is to show my enormous gratitude. I felt on top of the world and that is because of the people in my life. How extraordinarily lucky am I? 

I am too scared to write.

I am too scared to write. I am too scared to sit down and type something, anything, out. Writing makes feelings and thoughts come out that you were trying to avoid. I am trying to avoid feeling things other than a) neutral or b) happy. I am feeling happy a lot at the moment, actually. But I can sense things lurking and I don't want them to visit me.  

I am too scared to write because I feel anxious. I think that's the word that would best describe it. A vague but definite sense of almost panic. The fear of what happens when I do that, or this, or when I sit down to write. What happens then? What is lurking in me that I don't want to feel? 

The truth is I know exactly what is lurking in me. I know where it's coming from, and what it's about. But I don't always want to confront it. Not now. And that's what writing does, if you let it. 

I am too scared to write, but I wrote this. I almost confronted feelings. I certainly faced a fear. And that's enough, for now. 

It's funny, the way something so irrational can get all up in your head. 

Lockdown part II.

Lockdown when the days are shorter. Lockdown when it's cold and dark and meeting with friends for warmth and support is limited to the outside when the sun is shining. This time there is less uncertainty (all things considered), and more freedom. Still this time round I am safe in my home, with my family who are healthy, we have food, we have warmth (when the heating's working), we can sit in front of the fire watching Netflix. The Indian food van in my local town is still selling the Best Samosas Ever. 

Still, I think, with all of those things in mind, it is okay to be frightened. It is okay to feel down. It is okay to fear the long, dark nights ahead. It is okay to feel angry and frustrated. It is okay to acknowledge that undercurrent of anxiety running through us all. It is okay to feel scared on behalf of others, scared for their businesses and livelihoods, scared for their health. 

It is okay because to ignore those reactions and feelings would be to bury them. The idea of spending the next four weeks trying to push that all away is actually more frightening to me. That's how you spiral, that's how you get lost. 

It is okay to acknowledge that mustering the courage and the spirit we had the last time round is perhaps harder now. No one wants to do it again. It is no longer new and the energy it took to get through the first one has been spent. 

Some people will enjoy this time, and that's okay too. But to feel exhausted at the prospect of going through all of it again is not something we should be beating ourselves up for. 

I am going to have to practice a lot of self-forgiveness in order to get through the next four weeks. I am going to have to be really, really kind to myself. And that's okay. It's going to be okay. Deep breaths.