On Not Getting Lost

I should undoubtedly avoid all things blog at present given my impending deadlines, but it is nice to get away from work and clear the cobwebs that sometimes interfere with reading and writing. The sun is beaming through my office window and distracting me terribly. I feel like a child stuck in school on the last days before summer vacation, staring at the clock and counting the minutes until I can go home and run through the sprinklers. At the moment, going home means eating dinner and then heading straight back to work so it holds less appeal than it used to.

I have subjected myself to a ridiculous amount of self-analysis lately and that can only lead to trouble. Emotional outbursts and misinterpretation of things people say to me abound...I have become so familiar with this cycle that I knew what was coming next before it actually happened. There is always some attempt at reinvention at this point - a frustration with what I feel I must reject and yet seem unable to control. Naturally I decided to dye my hair instead, going from a natural blonde with a bit of peroxide help to a dark red-head. Voila - new me.

How odd it is that changing something about your physical appearance can make you feel better. It is a control issue, I suppose, a way of taking charge of change in a place where you can see fast and immediate results. But it always works, if only temporarily. It is another facet of my extreme personality, my tendancy to demand radical and instant change in response to feeling discontent. In a prior life I changed location (ah how my wanderlust longs for the same reaction now), but my job and relationship have me rooted firmly in Belfast. At one time I would have changed social circles as well, leaving behind the people who know the persona I am trying to shed in an attempt to create new circles which will accommodate the new me. But alas, I am an adult now and fully aware that while we must never stop striving for self-improvement, we must also accept who we are and grow to love ourselves for it. Besides, I quite like my people and would miss them far too much if I were to set bridges alight as I have in previous years.

Really I just need to get out of my own head and back into reality. I miss the lightness of contentment - these periods of frustration and self-pity are shrinking in duration, and each time I start to crave the land of the living more quickly than the time previous. I will take this as a positive step, proof that in spite of the old cliche about the leopard changing its spots I can still progress towards better reactions and coping skills. And if change takes too long, I can always just dye those pesky spots the right colour in the meantime.