on change

I want to crawl under a rock.

I've felt this way before: when I was getting my divorce, a lifetime ago. I wanted with all my heart to have somebody, anybody, stand in for me for two years, and I would go away. And when I came back, I would simply live with whatever had been decided in my absence.

But I didn't have a stand-in. So I had to live through it.

I had some difficult decisions to make about fifteen years after that, when I once again, wanted to go crawl under a rock. The powers that be were considering changing my job from a temporary one to a permanent one, with benefits. And I was pregnant. And I was a single mom. (And yes, we HAD been using contraception, not that it's anybody's business!!!!) And I felt torn between giving life, or being able to provide for the life I'd already brought into the world.

Never mind what decision was made. I made a decision, I lived through it, and I'm living with the consequences now. But a nice, big rock over a very deep pit would have been very comfortable back then.

I have changed, over the last thirty years. I've gone from born-again to pagan. I've gone from suzy homemaker to takeout. I've gone from slob to OSD wiper/picker-upper/whiner. I've gone from unsinkable to permanent depression. I've lost friends, made new ones, lost some of those.

And I've changed in ways I'm not going to put on a public blog. And now these changes are giving me grief. And once again, I want to go crawl under a rock.

Change is a constant. Death. Taxes. Dishes. Change.

I fear I have changed too much to go "home" this time. That I've ruined a whole bunch of things for my family, my friends, myself. "My feet won't touch the ground" says Peter Gabriel. "Not quite right", screams supertramp. "There's monsters under my bed, whispering in my ear" says Carlos Santana.

Some friends sympathize with me. Some think I'm some kind of addict. They may be right. They might not.

I just feel that I can't go back.

So.... anybody know of any big vacant rocks?