March 1, 2011

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I'm feeling particularly crabby today, annoyed by work and money and my busy schedule and the Army and an errant tooth and the clothes I'm wearing and my energy level (did you catch all that? Happy Tuesday!), so I figured it would be a good day to blog about something I don't so much like either. If you're looking for sunshine and inspiration, it's probably best that you come back tomorrow... or at least go outside to read this post.
Let's begin here: I don't deal well with change. More than just "don't like," more than just "not accustomed to," more than just "have a little trouble with." Flat out don't. deal. well. at all. Dread, despise, refuse, loathe, avoid at all costs -- all of those work. Even little tiny changes that wouldn't faze a normal person have a tendency to knock me into a tailspin. It's okay that now you're sitting there wondering about me a little, thinking "how boring!" I know lots of people who can't live without change -- they yearn for variety and get a little hairy when they're stuck in the same place/relationship/routine for too long. I respect these people, I really do, but I can't even begin to understand them. Given the choice between adventure and flux and invariable routine.... well, that's not even a choice for me. I know, I know. How boring. Bear with me though...
The reality is, actually, I adjust pretty well to change on the outside. I can totally fool you into thinking that I'm fine, so basically anyone who knows me doesn't even realize that I have this little issue. It's the inner turmoil that most people never see which leads me to the conclusion that I don't handle change well. It really doesn't matter what the nature of the change is, either: I used to get equally as upset leaving college after two grueling weeks of finals to go home for a much needed break as I did heading back to school after being at home for a month. I was sad to leave a job I didn't actually like. I dread the ends of vacations. I am a whimpering excuse for a human being for at least 2 days after Dan leaves for a long period of training (but never around anyone else).
At the risk of sounding slightly Freudian and blaming my parents (it's really not their fault), I think my extreme hatred of major life changes stems from their divorce. As I can recall, that was the last big adjustment in my life that did not, in fact, produce a massive thunderstorm in my head. I was about 11 when my parents decided to separate and probably 12 by the time my mom moved out and I started to split my time between them, and everyone (parents, grandparents, teachers, friends) watched me make this transition with worried expressions. In the end, though, I managed to prove them all wrong and scaled the hurdle like it was no more than a speed bump. Both inside and out, I emerged from this one apparently unscathed. Apparently.
I have a feeling that the self-composure and strength needed to get through such a big change with the amount of success that I had, though, used up some sort of inner quota. Does anyone know where I can buy a thicker skin and a sense of adventure? With maybe a side of coping mechanism?
I wanted to write about this strong internal objection to change because it is particularly pertinent and growing ever more so. The next year comes with the promise of major changes in almost every part of my life: my job is constantly evolving (sometimes for the better, sometimes not), I'm getting married (don't get me wrong, I'm beyond excited, but still it's pretty big), Dan is leaving for a deployment (hello, living alone), and then there's that little question about law school, a career, and my future. All kinds of big, scary obstacles looming ahead, popping out at the most inopportune times to scare me out of my mind remind me that they're still there. And because I am a wimp, here I sit with my head in the sand, trying hard to pretend I don't feel that tapping on my shoulder. 
So there you have it. Change makes me nauseous, and it's going to be a long year, boys and girls.
For now, it seems that the most obvious solution to this is to go to the gym, sweat a little, and then head home to curl up with the cat, a rather large glass of wine, and a good movie. Please excuse me while I drown my worries in a little merlot.... sorry for being such a pessimistic little raincloud today!


   Love,

    Meg

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