I’m pushing fourty which means I’ve been around for at least a little bit. I’ve made some discoveries along the way.
For me, my life is so split into different chapters I can hardly look at old photos of myself and realize it is me I am looking at. This is hard to grasp. And I guess this drastic change between 2016 and 2018 have left a harder mark than I expected. I am still struggling understand it, and in this process I keep having a bit of an identity crisis. Who am I really? What is left from before? What is left of me from 2009? From 2005? From 1999? Why is it so different? I was on the same path until 2016. There were massive changes along the way, but they didn’t feel like this. I am for dear life holding onto what defines me as a person – whatever that can be. And so I get nostalgic and look at old photos of me and remember what it was like. I look at the books I have written and I can hardly understand that I did that – those are my books and my work. It almost feels like it was someone else doing all that writing. It is so far away from what I am now, and have the time for. Did I do all that? Really? I don’t really get it. Now I can hardly sit in front of a computer before I’m being bothered. I guess it’s not all bad. I know I can’t go on like I did with this new situation. It is what I wanted after all.
But yet I guess I wish it wasn’t so brutal. Everything taken away from me so brutally and so unexpectedly. I don’t really consider this place for MY house. Not when she, tired and sleepy, says the house will always be more hers than mine. Not when she still asks her ex boyfriend about technical computer stuff when I have spent a week figuring it out and giving her a good explenation. I don’t know why she does that.
If I tell her all this, all of how I feel some times she will go on the defensive and say something like “I expected you to be ready for a daughter” but you know what – it’s not about her at all. Not at all.
And so I go through old videos and photos and I look at me – this stranger – smiling or doing something with the camera. There’s me with my long hair in 2010, there’s me all skinny and naive in 2001. There’s me with my dogs in 2014 and there’s me where I want to be before anything else, an airshow in England. That’s all me and I can’t understand it is actually what it is; ME. It feels like a crime watching someone elses life. That guy died sometime in 2016 or 2017 and never really returned. Someone else stepped into his mind and body and controls it now. That guy is gone. He is no more. It’s like I’m intruding on myself and my former life looking at it and digging into it.
It should have gone away by now shouldn’t it. A few songs still gives me the absolute creeps listening to. I still miss my old house. I miss my dogs and I miss my computer. I miss so much.
But, I was prepared to sacrifice, and that I did. I did that for you Emma, and never worry about it. I was stubborn as hell. That’s why you are here. It’s all me. I did that. I was stubborn. I did not give up. I rode that bull until the end. My stubborness and my willing to NEVER give up is the reason you are here. I saved you before you were even born, But all this about me is not your fault. I got nothing to do with you. I see that clearly. I had to so drastically change things and in such a short time that I was bound to loose most of myself on the way. It’s just really weird. I have to come to know this new person now – me – and when I don’t know myself any more it is hard.
And so I look back to my old self to try and remember me, and pick up a few pieces of myself that I have dropped along the way. They are still lying around. I just need to find them.