i went to check my mail earlier and, as i was closing my door, realized that i still have an occasional habit of looking at the door to make sure nothing's taped to it. y'know, like an eviction notice. never mind that i was actually home when i got served with eviction papers. never mind that it's been 10 years since said eviction. never mind that i've been current, if not a month ahead, on rent since i moved back on my own in 2017. there's still a part of me that checks. that worries. that wonders if and when the other shoe is gonna drop.
a running joke i've had with my therapist is that those of us who were more accustomed to dealing with anxiety/depression/grief/etc. before the pandizzle seemed to be slightly better equipped to deal with...gestures vaguely...all of this. there's some truth to that, i think. we've already developed coping mechanisms (no comment on whether or not those mechanisms are healthy) and ways to get ourselves through our day-to-day. this is just one more thing.
and yet...
i didn't sign up for one more thing. there are definitely days when i wonder if all the struggle and heartbreak and exhaustion were/are worth it. i'm tired of being tired. tired of waiting to see what the next disaster is gonna be. tired of putting in so much effort for what feels like such a small return. i found a post i wrote on my fundraising blog back in 2011 that referenced "playing superwoman when i can't even afford the cape" and holy shit past me was on to something there. i might be able to financially afford the cape now, but the mental/spiritual/emotional aspect? no thanks. hard pass.
anyway, i say all that to say that as secure as i should be feeling these days, there's still a part of me that wonders if and when it's all gonna come crashing down. i don't necessarily like feeling this way, but the way the world's going these days, it still feels like a valid concern. 🙃
