I hear the rain falling outside and I am thankful for it. Knowing there are no errands to run, appointments to make, or school to attend - brings me to a sense of ease that I so badly at the moment. Every day is a steam train where I seem to get on - but never get off. Nights are restless as well and full of sweat.
The washer churns and the dryer it ticks as the drum tosses our sweet scented laundry around - and around - and around. My coffee nearly empty at this wee hour needs a refill as it sits idle in one of my favorite vintage mugs. It is wedgewood blue with a floral pattern hugging the sides. Probably just a 1970's decal but I love it oh so much for it's simple contrast and comfortable handle... even though I'm not a handle holder.
Artistic deadlines loom and right now with everything that is filling my days, art isn't even a pleasure. I know how awful that sounds for art is my life... but when things get overwhelming it's everything that becomes overwhelming. I used to think that I was great at handling stress... but the more I deconstruct my thoughts the more I notice that I am not capable of giving my full attention to more than one thing, at one time. I want to be good at everything, I spread myself as thin as butter across toast... I am a perfectionist in only certain ways and live by the motto "If I'm to do it, it will be done right... it will be done better than right". I don't like to do anything sub-par... so you see when I'm stressed and everything starts to crumble at the edges... so do I. And by stress I don't mean bad stuff (although everyone seems to have a little)... but the cup of life being filled right up to the top and dribbling over the sides and onto the table, that sort of stress. My body fights against it, it wants to shut down... and I become highly irritable, unhinged, and extremely tired. My body says sleep... turn off... decompress... you need it. So I answer the call and sneak it in wherever possible even if it's just closing my eyes and not fully nodding off.
I feel guilty for being un-hinged and snapping at the ones I love. I consciously tell myself not to do it, all throughout the day I say "self, calm down... self, don't"... then I snap, feel guilty, and repeat those words again. The sleep helps, eating helps, a warm cup of coffee and some snuggles on the couch helps. I remind myself that everyone has these days, even a full week of them and that I am not a "bad person", a "bad wife" or "terrible mother"... I know that I am human and must allow myself to handle the stress the way my body wants to. Afterall... it knows what it's doing. It is important to listen to what your body craves... it's guiding you.
This place here where I dump my words is like therapy on a keyboard.
It's my safe place, the space where I can bethe part of the story where the princess removes the pea and sleeps renewingly through the night.
And so, while the transformation ensues here on the blog behind the scenes (pay no attention the the man (woman) behind the curtain... hee hee)... I must write. Not writing is harming me, it's pulling at my strings until the stuffing sticks out. Not writing is like being a teddy bear with loose button eyes... writing is like sewing them up and sewing them back into their position where seeing clearly is much needed.
One day soon you will log in and see that things look different, but the girl who writes here is still the same... just a little braver... a little more open. You will see that this girl is on a journey of self discovery through art and her sweet intrepid words.
















