"When you go through a huge change in life, there's always a transition period, there's always a period of shock." ~Amy, marine biologist, The Colony: Arrival and Survival
I thought the problem would be with those I love, those I live with. I was capable, I knew the reality of things (and the unreality); I was prepared. I understood.
I was wrong.
I have spent the whole of today wandering around, staring vaguely at the structures of the grid, having no idea what to do in any given moment. A hunt was announced at Twisted Thorn Textures, earlier, and I had to force myself to think through what I formerly considered the basics: getting dressed; changing tags; teleporting. It's not that I'd forgotten, it was more that my thinking process seems slowed.
It's as if breathing takes up the whole of my available resources, and it is the greatest struggle to do anything else.
I know I pushed, I know I pushed myself, harder than I've ever had to before, to get the packing done, to keep going, to keep everyone organized and moving. I know I pushed to my limits and past them. I know after a while I was stuck off in the sidelines, watching everyone move and lift and pack and carry, concentrating on breathing. Exhausted to the very core of my being.
But I was fine after the move, I was okay. We were leaving; everything else would resolve on its own. I was moving through it...
Nobody ever said you couldn't lie to yourself.
So it's back to recovering. I haven't looked through the calendar yet; I hope to do that at some point tomorrow, see what bids I can, in all honesty, take. This is going to be a slow, gradual recovery, I fear, of body, mind and spirit, and it is going to take time I can ill spare to get where I need to be, again.
I'll get there. Sadly, I have survived worse. So I know I'll get there, in time. It's just that it's going to take that time. Time I did not, in all honestly, want to take to recover.
I'm really, really not good at being gentle with myself. I'm better at gauging my limits, and pulling back just before I collapse, before muscle shreds from bone. This move took everything I had, and then kept taking.
So it's going to take a while.
If I'm grumpier than usual with anyone, that'll be why. Impatient with myself; impatience with the process. But all things in time.
Next up: why do cats levitate in Second Life? No answers, but a lot of questions.