I’ve always been one for putting all my eggs in one basket (and also for using hopelessly worn out clichés).
I get swept along with a new hobby or interest or cause or friendship or relationship, and it becomes everything to me, to the point where I often lose sight of the other important things in my life. I confess to having done this over the past year or so. It’s not a good thing. And it’s only when that basket is suddenly taken away that I remember just how many folk there are standing around me, ready to make a dive for the eggs so that they don’t end up smashed and ruined all around my feet. (There, I turned the overused cliché into something more creative, so I get away with it, right?!)
From the moment I sat in the shopping mall bus station in Tallinn nearly three weeks ago, suddenly basketless and feeling utterly bereft and miserable, I have been reminded on a daily basis of how many great people there are in my life, no matter how many times I manage to mess up or get it wrong. The comments to my sad, lonely blog posts came thick and fast, along with emails, Facebook comments, phone calls and texts. I can’t quite believe that there are all these people who are there, quietly and unobtrusively, giving me the freedom and right to make my own mistakes, and yet stepping forward instantly when it inevitably falls apart.
The Parents were there, with no hesitation as to whether I could come home and stay with them for a while. The Sister was there with just the sort of unique Sisterly emails that only she can provide. McBouncy was there, talking me through my situation with calm reason as I sat in bus stations and grotty hostels with all my bags around my feet. Other friends were there with me, keeping me company in emails and IM and Facebook chats. Blog readers were there, leaving me comments that ranged from sympathetic to encouraging to motivational. I’ve had countless offers of help, in the form of places to stay, financial assistance, dinner invitations, transport, work advice, coffee and cigarettes, a stiff drink. And although I would rather have lived in poverty for a while than asked for a loan from anyone, I know that I would never, ever have been stuck over there in Eastern Europe with no money and nowhere to live — I only had to say the word, and you lot would have gotten me out of it. This is a wonderful and humbling feeling.
And now that I’ve finally got a little bit of decent writing work (about a week’s worth!), which I hope will be the first of many more regular projects, I know that I’ll soon be able to stand on my own two feet again (sorry, I really can’t seem to avoid the clichés today!). But to be honest, I’m kinda glad that I stumbled and needed someone to hold me up – because I would never have believed you if you’d told me how many great people there were willing to do just that.
Yesterday, Grannymar and Elly bundled me into the back seat of Elly’s car and effectively kidnapped me, whisking me off to Junction 1 for a wander around the shops in the sunshine, some girly company and chat, and, of course, coffee. These are people I know purely through blogging — I’d never even met Elly before! And yet they treated me like a sister and showed me that they, too, are simply “there”.
I’ve been hiding away since I got back. The only people who’ve seen me are the people who’ve said “I’m coming to get you.” (in a non-scary, non-serial killer way, I mean). It’s nothing personal, it’s just me licking my wounds. But I’m on the road to recovery, I think. I have talked to The Ex, and am moving on… may even be able to return to calling him by his blog name soon! I have a little work. I know I need to make better plans for Next Time. I have learned from my mistakes. I have hope! I am surrounded by great people. Everyone said it would get better, and very slowly but surely, it’s starting to.
So really, all I wanted to say was thanks. All of you.
Thank you for not letting the eggs break.