The last couple of years have been tough, so tough. On a personal level, my 2019-2020 was spectacularly rough even without the pandemic and what that did literally to the whole world.
I was subjected to a flurry of stressful events. A hurtful betrayal took place right before I realized I had to suddenly move cross-country, a reality that involved my staying alone in an empty house without even my pets or much in the way of furniture, fixing it up and selling it so I could join my Partner 1000 miles away eventually.
This was a struggle as the house was nearly 100 years old and needed tons of TLC — and I am not Bob Vila. Not by a long shot — although I did attend the YouTube school of DIY during this time out of necessity (bless the modern age).
And the DIY had directly followed my packing up all of our possessions and selling and giving away the ones we wouldn’t be taking with us.
It was a lot. When I finally did move, the day after I arrived in my new home, I learned my father had been rushed to the hospital and almost died. That was a lot all by itself without the reality that I was exhausted from moving and everything that entailed.
I frankly slid along my belly for some months, trying to adjust to living somewhere else, and just as I was getting my bearings and feeling like the new area was home (and starting to make friends), the pandemic hit.
And a month into the pandemic, my father passed away.
There’s No Deadline on Healing #
I’ve been pretty frank on this blog about a lot of this, especially the process of grieving my father and some of the ups and downs of that. But I’ll be honest. I’m just now only getting over a lot of what happened in 2019.
Yes, it’s 2022. I do realize it’s been 3 years.
For the record, I’m typically a very resilient person. I normally spring back quickly from things. This isn’t normal for me at all. And I was pretty frustrated with myself because I’ve taken so long this one time.
But as I was talking to someone on the Poly Land Discord one afternoon about some stuff that happened to them a while back that they were still grappling with, it hit me: Three years ago, four years ago, even five years ago during this strange time of pandemic aren’t the same as those same times during a more normal era.
Because frankly? It’s hard to get over things when time hasn’t been moving. It’s easy to get stuck when you’ve slowed down and have reasons why having new experiences has been weirder or more difficult.
So if this applies to you too — please understand that a lot of us are in this same boat.
It’s something I’m keeping close to my heart. Just because it’s taking me a while to get over this stuff, it doesn’t mean it’ll never happen. Time got really darn weird. And there’s no deadline on healing.