Normalcy

Normalcy - is that even a word?

I don't think I know what it means any more.

Part of me is trying to reconcile the fact that life will never return to "as I know it", but even as I say that, businesses have begun re-opening and a lot of people are liking to pretend that there IS no virus around. I don't blame them but I do think denial is an immature psychological defense mechanism.

The loss of time has been disorientating. Months fly by but it hardly feels that way. I've adjusted relatively well to my new job, though the first week or two were fairly daunting. I think I'm well suited for my job at the moment - it does sit well with my temperament and I find it highly enjoyable. When I look back at how far I'd come it feels really strange.

I still remember wishing death on a previous science teacher of mine, because she gave me 4.5/5 in a science report. I would've been 14 years old at the time. It feels too horrible to write and admit.  In retrospect I think I was a very troubled child - even though I thought I was very clever and mature.

I've always wondered - how do people become better? When did I "grow out of" being a complete arse? I think internally I always knew I was an arse - I was bitter and disturbed and I always thought that people who were happy were just stupid. How dare they be happy, in the kind of world we live in. Now I see it as a great feat, to be happy DESPITE the world we live in. I am quite sure I was just envious at the time. Ignorance IS bliss at times.

Perhaps trauma does make us grow as people. I feel like I've had my fair share - not that I like to dwell on it or remember it - but it has changed me. Not sure I agree with trauma being a pre-requisite to change - and many people do come out worse for wear. Luckily I didn't, and I quite like who I am now vs who I was before. It saddens me that my parents don't feel the same way.

Parents - what an alarming thought, that they are the same even though I've changed. More alarming that I will only see them again for a finite number of times before they die. Our relationship has been so terrible since my adolescence - even when I finally decided to take some responsibility for myself, it was difficult the shake my resentment for them. There's a heated bubble below the surface, waiting for tension to break. I don't know what will erupt - I don't particularly want anything to erupt. If I had it my way I would continue my avoidant behavior. I don't even know if that's considered problematic - but I have salvaged my sanity and my sense of self in the process.

The prospect of viral pandemic has made me think deeper about mortality than I have in a long time. I guess I still feel invincible in a way, though logically I know I can die at any time. My world is still expanding, I am still widely ambitious. I want to study, and travel, and make more friends etc. I wonder, if I were terminally ill, would I go back south to live with my parents in my last days?

I don't think I would. If I had a very limited time, I would like to spend it happy.

That thought makes me guilty though. Also comes with a sense of failure. What kind of child abadons their parents in their old age. Why am I not strong enough to endure my parents as people, when I've reached this stage in life. Why am I still scared of being hurt, why am I still so avoidant, when I've claimed to reach a stage of acceptance.

I suppose the trepidation comes as I am planning a visit to my parents this long weekend - after a long period of restrictions are being lifted. I know I will survive, but I do not envision it being pleasant, and I do not know why I am doing this to myself. I don't endorse masochistic behavior, yet it appears this is exactly what I am doing at present.

What does normalcy mean for me?