Emptiness is a feeling that never really goes away. It is always there, lurking in the shadows, in the back of my mind. Making me feel lost, confused, scared, upset, all over again. It never fully disappears or leaves my mind. I’m always aware of it, conscious of the fact that these thoughts are always there, that they can become my focus all too easily and tug me back into a black space.
I chatted about feeling lost before and emptiness is another feeling which continues to raise it’s ugly head in my life. I’m a collector of things, a filler of spaces, a person consistently trying to fill empty voids and make them disappear. At the moment emptiness has creeped its way back into my thoughts by the loss of my routine, the knowledge that another era of my life is coming to a close.
University is almost over for another year, we are moving out of the flat we’ve called home for a year in less than 30 days, my parent’s are moving, one of my best friends is moving to Canada for a whole year. Everything is moving at a pace I’m not quite ready for and the change in routine is terrifying. Change is good, it really is, I’m really excited for the next little while but I have two exams still to sit and getting up in the morning with nowhere pressing to go is hard, it’s a struggle, one I quite often fail at. Putting my brain to use as I slug through thoughts is even more difficult. I drift from one glimmer of human contact to the next. Interrupted continuously by pieces of paper, a laptop screen, more paper, a textbook.
I’m typing this right now from a coffee shop as it is one of the most beautiful days Glasgow has seen this year. According to the BBC weather app is 17 degrees. But I didn’t want to face going outside. Despite buying two lovely pairs of summer shoes from Primark which I couldn’t wait to wear outside yesterday. Today I didn’t care, I didn’t want to go outside. I wanted to sink back into the mist of my own head, my own feelings, feeling and safe and secure in the flat when really that is often the most turbulent place for me to be. I went back to feeling empty over night and that really bloody sucked.
I often feel like I’m sitting in a dark room with only one window of light where I can see everyone else in the sunshine and I”m banging on it to let myself out but my own mind won’t give. It’s keeping me trapped inside until I can unlock the key. When I feel happy, I often wonder how I could ever feel so sad. It’s like happy me is a different person, she has different concerns, worries and fears to sad me. Happiness is something we all want to bottle and cherish and never give up on. Something we can use on the days where it feels like nothing might never be right again. That we can ourselves in a smile again. It is something that keeps the most lost and alone person fighting for, a glimmer, a flutter, for five seconds of the feeling.
My own company is satisfying but I’m scared at how much solitude is truly healthy. Every time I spend a beautiful day inside, it feels like I have wasted another day. The world, my world, just seems to be moving on without me and I’m stuck inside, cursing myself to get out. I haven’t cried in two and a half weeks which is a bit of a momentous milestone in all honesty but sometimes I just want to the tears to come. I want everything to spill out, everything to be wiped away. I want to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair and to stand outside in the pouring rain. The dust is settling but I feel like I’m suspended in the air. Falling, flailing, aimlessly moving around whilst everyone else bunkers down and settles. In a city full of people, at a university with hinders of students, in a busy neighbourhood, I’ve never felt more like I’m looking from it all behind glass.
After the last while, I expect every week to be just as crushing. To be just as lost and confused and numb. And surprisingly, it wasn’t. I have been busy. I had a trip to London, some time at home, an exam to revise for, blog posts to plan and take pictures for and a flat lease to sign. I was busy. I didn’t have time to stop and think and mull over every little detail that has happened to me so far in my life. I didn’t feel sad or exhausted or worn out. I felt motivated, inspired, ready. There were no tears. No occasions where I just sat in my room and cried or just lay in my bed, too numb to do anything other than stare at a wall or out the window.
My brain feels a jumble of things at the moment and I feel it is only going to get bumpier before it goes smooth again. I feel inspired for the first time in a really long time about my blog, university, my life and I don’t know if that is me once again attempting to fill a void, to feel more complete. Emptiness will always be my foe, something I will probably always try to beat or compete with, something I will always try to better but as long as I continue to channel that feeling into good things and good thoughts I don’t think I mind having it along with me.