Prelude to a rut

Currently, life as I know it seems to be dishing up one scary dilemma after another and as one muggy, grey summer day follows another, a nauseating feeling of unease lingers like a bad taste in my mouth. Having graduated last month, my friends and I have literally been spat out of a comfortable lifestyle into the great unknown; otherwise known as the real world, where life plans and goals become a little fuzzier. While I have the up most respect for the hard grafters of this world that make their own way up the ladder sans degree, I never expected this period of my life to be so hard. What with the credit crunch making it even harder to find a job- any job I might add, whether searching for that perfect position to infiltrate the targeted industry or something a little more temporary to make some quick cash- my sense of panic is a little bit like being the last person in a game of hide and seek to find a safe hiding place. Except the game is taking place across the entire country and the competition is surely at its toughest, especially in an industry as cutthroat as fashion: it’s every graduate for themselves.

So, when I scramble into bed each night, my mind becomes plagued with question marks and there begins the vicious insomnia cycle. As another day’s beginning is delayed with my lack of sleep, this rut continues and currently, each new day seems to bring knock-back after knock-back, whether it be job-related, moving-related or something a little more emotionally draining.

As I sit looking around the room that I love I am filled with a familiar sickly sense that life as I know it, is temporary and the clock continues to tick. In a slightly desperate bid to comfort myself and silence the questions congregating in my mind, I remind myself of a favourite saying of my Grandad’s; ‘it’ll all blow over’ but my eyes just well-up and I miss him more than ever.

God, life can grind you down sometimes. I know this is just a rough patch in the grand scheme of things but it sure is dragging on. I know I’m fortunate in my life for so many things that, in the haze of everyday life, go frequently unrecognised, but on this night, while I lie in this temporary room, this one question supersedes all the others; how do you move forwards when you’re knee-deep in shit?