resurgence of the extroverted introvert: questioning, accepting and progressing

Forcing myself out of the house today was the best thing for me. I say forced, I had to send off a Vinted parcel and I also had to make a return of a jacket I LOVED but had to accept didn’t really suit me. But I also had to force myself. By the time I was in town, I’m slightly anxious, sweating and feel naff. I do my errands and then I head to Klubb, my favourite coffee shop in Bolton. One, the staff are lovely. Two, I love being able to see the exposed structure of the Market Place, even if everyone else complains that it “isn’t how it used to be.”

I’m here today wondering how I got to this same place again. With Taylor Swift booming in one ear, and the murmuring motions of those milling about the shopping centre, I’m struck with the thought that really I’m in this place to teach me something. The wisdom of my private consultant comes to mind:

In every problem, ask yourself, “Where is the gift?”

Dr Rajeswaran

And that, my dear friends, is the focus of today.

I’m almost certain by now that the reason I was made redundant was more than the literal fact of being redundant. When it happened, so many supportive colleagues told me everything would work out and that this isn’t the end of everything. And I keep trying to remind myself of that when the anxiety and fear creeps in. They were right, and they meant every word. I met so many people that genuinely cared for me, and I think that’s what is so hard with this situation. I’m no longer surrounded by people who, even under pressure, were there for each other. I miss them terribly. I don’t even know if they know what an impact they had on me. All the goodbye hugs were so painful but so healing.

I’m also facing up to the reality that I am way too hard on myself. This over-analysing brain is working too hard. I’m safe, blessed and conscious. Even when I am grateful of that, I still feel unsettled and uneasy. This is the time for me to work on this. As my sister says, I’ve got to back myself. I’ve no reason to think people are thinking negatively towards or about me. More often than not, that’s just not the case. When push comes to shove, I only have myself to care for, so I need to be kinder to myself. If people knew how hard I was on myself in the low times, I think they would be shocked. And that shocks me enough to work on not thinking about myself like that. There’s no need to criticise myself at every moment. I should forgive myself more. Just allow myself to be.

I’ve never penned a blog post so fast – penned, I mean, typed – and for once my thoughts are flowing. Blogging always was so healing for me. Particularly as I don’t write for a specific audience. Anyone may read this, and that’s exciting and scary and magical all rolled into one. I’m still working on private journalling. I can’t really get into it enough to make a habit. I end up writing lines like I’m writing a novel, instead of unravelling my reality on the page. Maybe it just isn’t therapeutic for me, maybe blogging is better. Maybe the private stuff should tumble out in conversations with close friends, trusted family and my boyfriend. Maybe I should quieten it a little, so that I don’t overthink it.

These are a lot of thoughts for a Tuesday. And it’s raining.

Love,

Anna