All that I have sleeps beside me

As some of you know, a few days ago I finished up at my marketing gig of over five years, moved all my worldly possessions from my city apartment into a bedroom at my parents’ house in Gippsland and I’m less than a week away from trekking across the U.S. I know that you know this, because after I finish this post (and my second wine) I’m planning to throw my blog open to the scariest people in the world – my friends. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a pleasant-looking lot and all pretty tops people. But at this point I’ve shared my words with about zero people for fear that someone might, I don’t know, ACTUALLY READ THEM. This thought is at once both terrifying and – nope, just terrifying. But life is about to get all kinds of unnerving and exciting and if I’m ever going to share my journey, now’s the time right?

So as I sit here writing this, surrounded by every material object I have collected in my life so far, no job to get up for in the morning, not to mention having recently split from my partner, it’s a strange, leveling feeling. Between me and my cohort of stuff, everything I have done in my life until this point can be accounted for in this very room – and absolutely nothing else is expected of me right now. At the risk of sounding completely self-indulgent, it feels like a weird kind of rebirth; suddenly I’ve become acutely aware of the blank slate I’ve created for myself.
Erada quote
Yes, that’s exactly the way I designed it. But when I woke up this morning, jumped on the treadmill, cranked up the iPod and the first lyrics to permeate the air were “…sweet dreams, when I’m alone, all that I have sleeps beside me…” this strange water-like fluid starting gushing out of my eyes. Okay, I burst into tears. And I realised for the first time that this next week between my old life and my new one is going to be a tough slog. I’ve been so busy getting through the last few weeks of finishing up at work, moving house and catching up with friends that I haven’t had time to think about what I’m giving up and the people and experiences I’m going to miss. Well, my tear ducts decided that 8.30am this morning, after exactly 20 seconds on the treadmill, was the perfect time to consider all of this. And yes, I finished my workout, because endorphins are ace when you’re feeling like a big, vulnerable bag of emotions.

I know it’s the right decision for me; the travel alone will be a game-changer and I’m setting myself up to actively create the life I want when I get back. I can, thank god, still count my ex partner as one of my best mates. And no matter what happens, I have always lived by the belief that I’ll never regret anything I felt I needed to do at the time. But I am, admittedly, equal parts excited and shitting my pants.

Luckily I’ve had friends go through this exact same experience who warned me there would be days like these. Days when you question what the hell you’re doing, when you’re feeling exiled from your old life and not quite settled into your new one. They told me there would be tears. And thank god they’ve been right so far, because they also told me that after a good night’s sleep and the next morning’s fresh perspective, I’ll wake up knowing I’m exactly where I need to be, on the cusp of the most amazing experience of my life so far.

Which I guess I knew all along. Stupid Patience from The Grates and stupid, stupid tear ducts…

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