This week, I nearly started a post with “it’s been a rough day”. I wish I could say that I didn’t post it because it was too negative and no one wants to read a blog that makes them more fed up than they were when they started, the truth is I felt like I didn’t have the energy to finish it.
It had been a long (I’d been out of the house something like 13+ hours) and (emotionally) testing day for a human who has never been fond of change and reacts more significantly to stress than the average grown up seems to (perhaps I need to just learn that very-british stiff upper lip manoeuvre everyone seems so flipping good at).
And then I realised, that [spoiler alert] IT WASN’T THAT BLOODY TERRIBLE. And I, quite frankly, needed to pull myself together.
Look around you right now.
How bad are things?
When you’ve had a bad day, how bad is it?
I’ve had a handful of really bad days in my life, and they’re the ones that shape you, that kind of fracture you a little bit to make you the person that you’ll eventually be (yes, none of us are the same as we were this time last year). In a time where thousands of people are running to countries to escape war, dying in the cold sea with their children whose lives they have put at risk because it was better than what it meant to stay in their homes, I was sobered listening to the radio after my “bad day” as refugees were interviewed and one- a teacher in a past life, before she was more than a “refugee” or a “migrant” or, to the European press and political parties, a number- told of how she had walked thousands of miles with her childen, running from police exhausted, in the hope of a better life. She told the reporter how she didn’t really care if she made it, as long as her children did. I even felt guilty about whining that the office had changed the type of tea bags we were supplied when I was so busy and I had so much more to do and umpteen other ‘worries’ (before I again decided to stop being so bloody pathetic; this wasn’t about me).
There are people in the world – near and far- they might sit next to you on the bus or be all the way across an ocean, never to be even within your line of sight, fighting their own battes.
What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to be a little sad and not every day will be something out of a Disney film, but I’m a fan of two massive cliches and I guess I’m using this post to remind myself of those, as well as share them with you.
The first is that everything happens for a reason. It doesn’t mean that’ll be obvious immediately, it might never be obvious at all, but it does. And the second is will this awful, disastrous, horrid day matter in five years? Because if it doesn’t you may as well stop worrying your pretty little head about it now. I don’t mean to trivialise your worries, but sometimes that’s exactly what you need (or I do anyway).