Time is a Tricky Thing

Written by: Morgan Blair, Founder and Creative Director of Unpolished Journey

It’s the end of July and I am constantly checking myself.

“Can it truly be this late in the summer?”

“Do I really only have three weeks until I graduate?”

“Where did the last couple of months go?”

I’m in a time warp. One, structured and dictated by the constant push/pull of schedules, due dates, and routines. I have obligations, as we all do, to life, to functioning, to recovery. These obligations keep time at a distance. I hardly even know what time is anymore.

It’s midnight, but it feels like 3pm. My body’s internal clock is all messed up. Perhaps because my body and I have always had a difficult time communicating. But, I am sitting here, in an office foreign to me, doing my work as an overnight counselor must while simultaneously mourning the loss of time.

When I was little time and I were friends. Or perhaps enemies. It depended on the day. Time at school dragged on and on. Time after the bell rang was free and easy. I don’t know when time started to feel like a scary thing. Maybe when my cousin passed away, or when I got sick for the first time. Maybe when my mom was diagnosed with cancer or my nightmares wouldn’t leave me alone. Time became scary the minute time actually meant something. When you are young aging doesn’t seem worrisome. Aging is exciting. A new birthday, a new year, another year older, another year with more privileges than the last.

“When was the first time you felt like an adult?”

This question was used as an ice breaker at a church I bravely ventured to last Sunday. I thought it was odd. This was no ice breaker. This took deep philosophical thought. And so my mind circled back towards time. I first felt like an adult the minute time became something which was chasing me. My first year of college when the months flew by and I didn’t have time to breathe or when I got the call that Andy was gone and suddenly time no longer existed.

“I felt like an adult when I realized I was getting older.”

My response didn’t make a whole lot of sense to the random woman I was talking to, but for me it made me sad. I knew exactly what it meant. When I was young I welcomed the passing of time with excitement and freedom. When I became an adult time was chasing me and we no longer danced around fields and playgrounds like old friends. I didn’t want things to end. I didn’t want tragedy to keep touching my face. I wanted time to slip far far away from me….

But why? Because, I have fears, as many of us do of the unknown, of what may happen next. Time is indicative of that. Time ensures the unexpected. If I could bottle up time and store in my closet, I would, but that would be ineffective and then the life in recovery I have built would be meaningless.

So what do I do? I sit here and write and work and complete the overnight counselor checklist and do my very best to let time quietly sit in the corner without chasing it out of the room.

I am learning.

I am hoping.

I am slowly accepting time as a friend once more.

Be patient with me, not everything can happen overnight.

Leave a comment

Back to Blog