Good news, great news and news yet to be written…..
1. Good News: I am moved. I did the walk through yesterday and turned in the keys. Twenty some odd years has been packed and stored or donated. Savers probably hates me right now.
2. News Yet To Be Written: I have about 30 boxes in the garage here to go through to get settled. I am just so tired of dealing with all of my stuff I just want to scream. I won’t, but I want to.
3. THE GREAT NEWS: I didn’t break!!!
- to go back to school to spiff up my phlebotomy credentials (long story)
- to write at night and on weekends
- to have a clean and neat room, with my bed made and laundry done
- to go on hikes on weekends and maybe learn to Glamp from time to time
- to make jewelry for gifts and for myself….maybe even to sell
- to keep working a full time job so I can have a full time pay
- 8hrs a day on a less than taxing job but still need to take a nap in my car
- I’m registering for school but will have to do it in person instead of online, terrified I’ll sleep through it or fail
- I clean my room by turning off the light and turning on the TV
- I get out of bed late on weekends and then require a few naps to get through the day
- The thought of pulling out and putting away all my jewelry making stuff is exhausting in itself
- Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve been able to keep a full time job.
Okay, I’m tired right now. I really have no reason to be, other than I stayed up too late last night. But when I’m in these moods I wonder if I will ever be able to have a normal life, if I’ve ever had a normal life. My Mom is insistent that I just need to “push through” and “fight back” and basically “get over it” and I will be fine. Sometimes I think she’s right, very rarely, and I try and spin myself back out of control. I think I need a routine…a “doing” and slowly build from there. I keep changing this idea of what my day should look like beyond going to work, going home, going to bed, getting up and going to work, going home, going to bed.
Right now I’m thinking that Mediation is the direction I should be going in. Of course I can’t do that until I have a space cleaned in my room, which means I need to work in my room, which means I need to do my laundry and find a meditation pillow and make hand knotted-silk strung beads and a tassel for meditation……See how the wanting and the doing are always dancing?
I need to……….
- I don’t need a clean room to do it
- I don’t need my laundry clean to do it
- I don’t need a special pillow to do it
- I don’t need specially strung beads to do it (yet, I want them because it means shopping and creating)
The only thing I need to do is make time. Or in my case take time. And take comfort in the hope that the needful will allow for the mental space for doing the wanting.
This weekend was mostly dark and angry but I didn’t let it rule me and I found ways, which in some cases were fairly natural now, of not losing my temper or pecking anyone’s eyes out. But my abstinence took the biggest hit.
Friday I worked a full day, had physical therapy for my wrists and thumbs (really not the brightest idea to type this blog on my cell phone, I know) mother insisted since I promised to do the shopping on Fridays that I needed to do that. I understand her point; she makes out a list based on the sales and spends a food part of her day doing that. My plans fell through for Saturday so I figured I could just stay in….I think you know how my relationship with my mother works. Mother demands and daughter angrily abides. I hate myself for not holding my ground. My reason to her was sound but she wouldn’t hear it.
I came home with food she got out of bed and was just all happy (and feeling so much better physically and willing to eat junk food on her tortured intestinal tract telling me how wonderful I should feel for doing everything I prided to do blah blah I wish I could do everything I set out to do blah blah blah. I tried to explain to her several times how doing that undid all the good physical therapy did and she thought that was a good thing. I had to explain to her again and again. And it just occurred to me I’m not really helping myself to recount the angery exchange when my goal was to illuminate the darkness I’d experienced over the weekend. So that was the ignition. And though it wasn’t a raging flame it was an intense long burn kind of fire and lasted all weekend. Well until S’mores.
I have become acutely aware of how sugar effects mood. This is the second time I’ve become blindingly aware of this effect from sugar. I love it. But no matter how much the wife loves her abusive husband she needs to leave for her own preservation.
I don’t want sugar to be on my abstinence program. I want to be able to eat birthday cake on my birthday or pecan pie at Thanksgiving. I don’t want…I don’t want to be a slave to it for emotional balance either. That’s what the Lexapro, Buspar, and yes, even Xanax are for. I don’t know what to do because I really don’t want to give up anything yet, some days I don’t believe I’ve been blessed with the level of desperation needed to take that first step out of the epicurean forest and then when I have clarity on some days I don’t think it’s bad enough to jump on the abstinence wagon and hold on for dear life either. Even though that’s exactly what I am suppose to be doing.