Is this what normal feels like?
I'm sipping my decaf coffee on the couch, absorbed in the glow of the pellet stove. The dogs are curled beside me in a circle, yin and yang.
It is at this moment I realize my heart isn't racing. There is no overreaction to atone for, no problem to solve, and no ever-present feeling of dread. In this sliver of stillness, I'm content and calm.
The part of the healing process that no one tells you about is how upsetting calmness can be when you're not used to it. It's not that you don't want to feel calm. You just don't know how to exist without having a lot of chaos to manage.
As a kid, crisis intervention was a way of life. As an adult, it was one thing I was really good at, and in a way, it gave me a sense of purpose. I didn't expect that not having fires to put out all over the place would leave me feeling strangely empty.
Some days I feel like I've forgotten something. I don't know what to do with this sense of peace, so I wander around the house, looking over my shoulder for the missing thing I didn't want in the first place.
On the worst days, I feel lost and a little sad.
But mostly, I'm curious about what's to come. What can I create on this blank slate that was once a canvas for panic, rage, and sorrow?
I can’t wait to find out.
Funny how the familiar feels safer than the new. Even when what is familiar is lack of safety.