Back at Sea

I’m back from my trip home and settling back into my ship life routine. I love the life I live – travel, performing, days spent entirely with Nuts-it’s idyllic really. Not without it’s trade offs, not the least of which is an inability to be with your loved ones especially for important events. But even with its sacrifices I feel incredibly grateful to get to do what I do.

However, I don’t feel quite normal. I’m up and down. I’m an emotional hurricane. Poor Nuts, seriously. Good thing I’ve gotten back into running. I run almost every day now, angrily. But I’m not really angry – or am I??

Several years ago I was in a motorcycle accident. It was pretty serious. I was going 90 miles an hour and when the shit hit the fan my body connected several times with the road and at least once with the front bumper of the car traveling behind me (who did slam on their brakes, saving my life, but not my head from busting out their headlight). I was really lucky to walk away but a friend who’d been in a similar accident warned me that for days I’d be feeling weird. He accurately cautioned me to be really gentle on myself because I’d be an emotional wreck. He said all my organs got jostled and now had to slowly make their way back to their normal positions and that kind of inner work is traumatic at a deep level. Boy was he right. I’d cry, I’d laugh. I wanted mostly to lay in bed watching Sex in the City and crying.

That’s how I feel now, even though I’ve been through no physical trauma (unless you consider sleeping in Charles De Gaul’s Delta Terminal E and being in transit for 30 hours at a time, TWICE in an 8 day period). Somehow leaving my life here on the ship, watching my Grandma suffer, holding my family, getting irritated at the smallest things, remembering how much I miss my cousins and how my Grandmother saved my life when I was 14, drinking wine and cracking jokes while trying to forget for 10 minutes what we came together for – it all translates as a deep trauma to me. I’ve felt like I don’t belong to my family or really a friend structure for most of my life. I hold most everyone at arms length because I travel a lot, but also because closeness always = pain and disappointment to me. I know, stupid, it sounds so text book. But even my best friend had to fight to keep herself in my life because I just didn’t believe in long friendships or close relationships. And even now I rely on the fact that I have her and Nuts and my sister and don’t really desire more than that. This is why. This aching pain I feel whilst my Grandmother fades away is why. and now I’m traumatised because over the last few years since I’ve met Nuts, and he’s changed me, I’ve let so many more people in. I have his whole family whom I love. We spend time together and keep in touch. I have my best friends family who’s so kind me it breaks my heart. And going home and hugging my cousins and talking into the wee hours of the morning and remembering our childhoods…and dreaming of raising our children together. Well it’s all so wonderful and so very painful. Loving people, feeling loved, means you’ll lose them. It means you’ll watch them suffer without being able to stop it. And that is so awful. And yet, its so worth it. Ugh.
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