Human Experience

A newfound sense of peace

I'm on the road back from my little impromptu trip up to Chapel Hill. There are no rules. I can stop as many times as I want, take as many hours as I need,  buy as many random snacks and drinks as I want. I pull into a McDonald's to use the bathroom and change out of my muddy clothes covered in dirt and pig poop.

The bathroom is an ick. Literally refuse to pee there, no matter how hard I have to go. Never mind.

I drive some more and stop at a Love's gas station. They usually have good bathrooms. I'm still only about ten minutes outside of Chapel Hill at this point. But again, there are no rules.

After using the bathroom, my next mission is coffee. My relationship with coffee has been extremely complicated since I started drinking it 7 years ago. First, I love it. Then, it gives me the jitters. Then I hate it because it gives me the jitters, but love it too much that I keep drinking it. Then I wonder if I'm "sinning" because it makes me anxious, and the anxiety about "sinning" makes me super anxious, sometimes to the point of an almost panic attack.

I drive about 20 more minutes and find a Starbucks. I pull over near the side of the building and submit a mobile order since my customizations are always so complicated. Today it was grande iced latte with oatmilk, one pump of classic, and half decaf. The girls working there were friendly and had an upbeat demeanor. It was good vibes. I then decide to order an impossible breakfast sandwich since I'm really hungry and still have a 2-hour drive.

I sip my latte as I exit the store, and it's pure bliss. Espresso-y, but not too bitter or too sweet.

I then sit in the car and create a playlist for the rest of the drive. I label it: "my life is a movie" because I like to think my life is a movie, and that it'd be a pretty interesting film at that. Soundtrack included cruel summer by Taylor Swift and some songs from Gilmore Girls.

As I'm driving along, I start to think about some of the shit I've been through in the past few months. And where I am now. I'm a free woman. I'm finally out of fight-or-flight, and those two ER visits are simply a memory. They don't define who I am as a person; everybody goes through shit in life, and that was my shit. I am not special. I am not broken. I'm a whole person who's been through some deep shit - just like most adults.

I'm driving along the highway, something I used to be afraid of. I'm at the point where I've been through some real shit, and I'm finally at the stage where I'm ready to move on. I don't know what's next right now, I'm sort of in a holding period. Living back at my parent's house, working at my old job, and trying to make a new life happen back up in the Triangle. But something about this period is really sweet, unique, candid, pure, unfiltered, aesthetic...I can't quite find the word for it.

For once I truly  think I'm going to be okay. I don't know where I'll end up, but I know that I'm going to make it to the next stage, and that I have the potential to be content and not live in constant fear anymore.