what this is

This is a grieving process. I realized it this past weekend, while I mercifully escaped into the Cheese Queen's gorgeously nutty house in Ashfield, MA for a harmony singing workshop with the lovely Val Mindel and Emily Miller. Mostly I kept my mind off work, as there was enough to occupy my brain. But several times I did suddenly realize that my mind had wandered back into the minefield and I had to go retrieve it before anything bad happened.

During one of those wanderings, I guess, it came to me that part of the reason I feel like I'm on a constant emotional roller coaster is that I'm grieving for what could have been, for the possibilities of my job that will now never be realized.

Except until certain things happen, it's more like grieving for someone that has a terminal illness but hasn't yet died. Or being in a relationship that has a predetermined end date. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. I'm not saying that this is as bad as dealing with a loved one's terminal illness; thank God I don't know from experience. But in a way it's not terribly different. When you have a vision of your life that's pretty great, and pretty much on-track, and suddenly it's thrown out the window and there's apparently nothing you can do about it, that feels pretty major.

I will be fine, one way or another. As Billy Jonas sings (six or seven times a day on my iPod these days), "any way you go you're gonna get there." Obviously there are oodles of privilege running around my life, and no matter what happens I will find a way to land on my feet, and even (though I don't want to jinx anything there) stay in my wonderful new apartment and keep dancing and singing.

I just have to grieve a while first.