Almost a month later and the avalanche of feelings and thoughts have caught up with me. There is an immense feeling of fear, unsteadiness, and overwhelming doubt. Over the last week I've allowed myself to be buoyed by the wave of futile emotions, my tears washing these thoughts away at the most unplanned locations. Tonight it so happened that it was at Angus Steakhouse just off Oxford Street. In the thick of Friday night street performances and dinner time rush, the staggering sense of inadequacy bubbled up and I had to take some moments for a breather.
Years ago, smack in the middle of winter submissions maybe, I had sat in a corner in Canary Wharf and cried my heart out. It was one of those extremely hopeless nights where I had no idea who or where to turn to. I only remember needing to get out of the house to find some direction, instead halting at the concrete convolution of London's financial district, and feeling at a complete loss. I had no idea who I cried to (my parents? probably God), but eventually picked myself up and got home.
Tonight the same feeling of failure and loss came to me, but I found strength in its memory. If I had once survived that hopelessness in myself, I'm sure to survive it again.
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