My flat is now nearly empty. The only things that remain (other than the furnishings belonging to the property) are my (nearly) packed suitcases that I’m taking to America. And me. Yes, I have two more nights in this empty flat before I leave Scotland for what I hope will just be a few weeks’ time.
But whilst my flat is nearly empty of things, it’s filling up quickly with fears.
I don’t like this feeling; it’s a feeling I can’t even name. I feel empty inside. I feel worried. I feel sick. I feel sad. I feel out of control. I feel desperate. I feel lonely. I feel anything but happy and good.
This isn’t what life was meant to be. Live was meant to be filled with safety and security and stability and love. But these past four years have been filled with mostly stress and worry. I’ve had moments that have been happier and more carefree than others, but with very little long-term certainty about my future, I’ve yet to truly feel settled; I’ve yet to truly feel at peace.
Now, I look around at yet another home I’m leaving, and I wonder what will happen next. I worry that something will go wrong with my new student visa and that I won’t be able to start my PhD. I worry what that devastating blow will do to my emotional stability. I worry what future will wait for me if the one I’m praying for doesn’t work out.
I look around and I wonder if I will always feel like this. I worry that these feelings will be with me forever and that I will never truly be settled again. I worry that the true joy and happiness I once felt will never return. And I worry that if these feelings continue, I will find myself in a hopeless, desperate, and depressed state. I worry that if these feelings continue, I will go from feeling a bit blue to being a in proper, full-on state of clinical depression. (I don’t believe I’m there right now, but I do recognise that if I lose the bit of hope that remains in my soul, I could find my way there in short order!)
But for all of the worries, I’m still holding onto hope. I’m trying to tell myself that the fears are just silly things that are trying to break me—but that I’m stronger than they are. I’m trying to tell myself that all of the niggly little whatifs are not worth my energies to entertain.
I feel empty and sad and frightened. But I’m hopeful that these feeling will pass soon. I’m hopeful that these feelings will be replaced with joyful emotions that will fill the emptiness; that will fill the void.
The next couple of days will be filled with a bit of manic insanity as I prepare for my flights back to America. And once I arrive State-side, my days will be filled with a bit of manic insanity as I apply for my new student visa and travel around visiting my family and friends. And, with luck, there will soon be a bit of manic insanity as I prepare to return to Scotland.
And hopefully when all of the manic insanity is over, the empty spaces filled with fear will become filled with joy instead!