Today is my 6th day without coffee. I have taken green tea, decaf, but I have survived without one single espresso. The first few days seemed quite alright, but this morning I noticed myself a bit more irascible and tired, even after a good night’s sleep. I’m not sure if this is a withdrawal symptom or rather a sign that I need to make peace with the current state of my life.

I have been feeling miserable with everything that has been going on. When I look at it, all I can see is a big, tiring mess. I ask myself: how did I end up here, in the middle of this mess? Oh, right, I have a thing for letting life run out of hand. And if I bring up that again in a conversation with him, I will probably hear that I need to tolerate it, that he is only human, and that I probably already put him through the same before.

My head has been spinning. If I turn to one side, there are all these symptoms I need to manage from my burnout recovery. If I turn to the other side, there is this rollercoaster of moods and tones of voice that have really taken a toll on me. There is not a single conversation in which we both can argue in a gentle and calm way. I try to laugh when he raises his voice, knowing that it’s probably beyond him, but I also know that people can work on their skills in order to have healthier relationships.

So I don’t know if I feel extremely tired because I’m going through a coffee hangover or because this is all really consuming to the person I am at this moment in time. That person is still trying to relax and learn self-compassion. She’s craving peace like a lizard craves being in the sun. She’s slowly moving from reactive to responsive, and she’s trying her best to keep the light on. She’s expansive and wants to flow; he likes to constrict and have things under his way. When she plays, he doesn’t go along. When she just wants to be silly, she can’t.

I realised today that I have tried to fix something that might not be for me to fix it. I have wanted to influence the direction of this chariot without recognising that I’m not the only one in the driver’s seat. I’ve been trying to make the chariot move forward, but if I give up the handle, I know it will go his way. And I would like to be in a situation in which, no matter what, I know the chariot keeps going forward instead of leaning to the right or to the left, even when I fall asleep. Now, I might well have to step down from the chariot and, most of all, I might need to be brave enough to face that I may end up walking my way out alone.

And you know what makes me sad the most? It’s not that I will be alone again, but that I will lose the only friend that was left. That’s the scariest and most painful part.