Endings
I don’t handle change well. I never have. Change is, however, probably the most important, inevitable, and ever-present part of life and so it’s one of those things that I’ve taken decades to train myself to deal with in a way that somewhat functions but mostly just mimics normal human behavior.
I generally rely on constants. I’ve lived in the same house my whole life, I wear the same clothes every day, I hang on to my childhood friends. These things are how I retain control of the otherwise uncertain parameters that life throws at me.
Gradual transitions are the key. Those changes that occur so slowly, it’s impossible to see it happening until it’s old news. For everything else, I need predictability.
My mind is linear, I see things as beginning and ending and fill in the plan from there. Whenever I started a school program, I knew when my expected graduation date was. I knew that timeline was fluid and the date would flex, but I could see it there and didn’t have to harp on it.
In a stressful situation, I will count down to the scheduled end time. It’s okay, this meeting is officially over in fourteen minutes, thirteen minutes, twelve. In a happy situation, I will still wonder when it’s going to end. How much time do I have left to enjoy this one? I need to know, so I can enjoy it.
I struggled through a handful of traditional jobs where from the first day my mind was focused on one thing: the exit strategy. Now some of those jobs were legitimately not suited for me, but some of them I just couldn’t handle because there was no end date. No plan. Every moment of every day my brain would harp on the fact that I didn’t know how or when the job would end. I liked some of those jobs, even. Ultimately I ended up quitting every one of them in a fit of anxiety.
My pet sitting business works well for me because it’s not a job so much as it’s multiple assignments that have definite dates and expectations. And endings.
I like to look at the Memories feature on Facebook. It’s a good exercise in seeing how some things change - like the kids growing up - while others somehow stay timeless and comfortable. But lately I’ve been seeing more differences than similarities. There are things I used to be known for that I just can’t muster an interest in anymore. There are things I enjoy doing now that I never would have given a glancing thought to before.
I think that’s probably normal for most people, but it’s something I don’t actually know how to process.
The last year has shown the biggest changes for me in all directions. With some moments having such striking ups and downs that sitting back and thinking about it, I’m certain the only reason I made it through was that the timing on each happened to perfectly cancel the other out.
I lost a best friend. Which, on the grand scale, was actually way more gradual than it appeared. But literally the week that was ultimately sealed, it was made clear that I had already found someone much better.
I almost lost my kids. I didn’t lose them, though. Instead I learned just how supportive my community is of me. I learned how many friends I have, and just how many people I barely know that will come out to offer help just because they know me.
Business has been good. I haven’t needed to advertise at all and people just come to me. My calendar is already full through the end of the summer. I’ve thrown social events and volunteer work onto the calendar too, without apprehension or worry about an exit strategy.
The observation I’ve made most recently though... Somehow, sometime this year, I’ve stopped thinking about things as ending. They just... are.
I generally rely on constants. I’ve lived in the same house my whole life, I wear the same clothes every day, I hang on to my childhood friends. These things are how I retain control of the otherwise uncertain parameters that life throws at me.
Gradual transitions are the key. Those changes that occur so slowly, it’s impossible to see it happening until it’s old news. For everything else, I need predictability.
My mind is linear, I see things as beginning and ending and fill in the plan from there. Whenever I started a school program, I knew when my expected graduation date was. I knew that timeline was fluid and the date would flex, but I could see it there and didn’t have to harp on it.
In a stressful situation, I will count down to the scheduled end time. It’s okay, this meeting is officially over in fourteen minutes, thirteen minutes, twelve. In a happy situation, I will still wonder when it’s going to end. How much time do I have left to enjoy this one? I need to know, so I can enjoy it.
I struggled through a handful of traditional jobs where from the first day my mind was focused on one thing: the exit strategy. Now some of those jobs were legitimately not suited for me, but some of them I just couldn’t handle because there was no end date. No plan. Every moment of every day my brain would harp on the fact that I didn’t know how or when the job would end. I liked some of those jobs, even. Ultimately I ended up quitting every one of them in a fit of anxiety.
My pet sitting business works well for me because it’s not a job so much as it’s multiple assignments that have definite dates and expectations. And endings.
I like to look at the Memories feature on Facebook. It’s a good exercise in seeing how some things change - like the kids growing up - while others somehow stay timeless and comfortable. But lately I’ve been seeing more differences than similarities. There are things I used to be known for that I just can’t muster an interest in anymore. There are things I enjoy doing now that I never would have given a glancing thought to before.
I think that’s probably normal for most people, but it’s something I don’t actually know how to process.
The last year has shown the biggest changes for me in all directions. With some moments having such striking ups and downs that sitting back and thinking about it, I’m certain the only reason I made it through was that the timing on each happened to perfectly cancel the other out.
I lost a best friend. Which, on the grand scale, was actually way more gradual than it appeared. But literally the week that was ultimately sealed, it was made clear that I had already found someone much better.
I almost lost my kids. I didn’t lose them, though. Instead I learned just how supportive my community is of me. I learned how many friends I have, and just how many people I barely know that will come out to offer help just because they know me.
Business has been good. I haven’t needed to advertise at all and people just come to me. My calendar is already full through the end of the summer. I’ve thrown social events and volunteer work onto the calendar too, without apprehension or worry about an exit strategy.
The observation I’ve made most recently though... Somehow, sometime this year, I’ve stopped thinking about things as ending. They just... are.