Where I was a dealer and not the feeler in the beginning of this lockdown, now no amount of cooking, cleaning, or wine is making this quarantine better for me. I was writing to do lists for a while. But even that is not bestowing me any sense of normality. I’m carrying my pain, my children’s pain, and concern for our mothers’ health. And all I really want to do is just spend a week alone.
I make sure I get a walk in everyday. I do laundry and grocery shopping twice every week. I cook 75% of our meals. I do a collage every day for my 100 day project. And I try to write these blog posts three times weekly but sometimes it’s only twice. I was in dealing mode but I’m fast melting down. Going into feeling mode. This last week I almost cried. For me, that’s a thing.
Before this all happened, I always beat myself up because I am not working on the next big project. Because I gained weight and I couldn’t seem to shed it. Nothing’s changed. Except now I have no alone time and no gym to go to. When do I get the epiphany that this is all meant to be? And it isn’t about me? Just gonna keep writing what I’m thinking and feeling in hopes that this feels like a truth you need to hear.
And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.
And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.
2 Comments
I feel you. Not only am I trying to stay home, field mice have decided to quarantine with us, preferring being inside than out. They’re odd mice. They rarely are in the counters (possibly because I moved everything off), so it’s kind of like we’re just feeding them from the traps some are too stealthy to get caught in. Not all… we’ve caught more than I can remember. Last week though, the stress of Covid, my partner working and making my stay home efforts feel futile, and a mouse got caught and squealed. It breaks my heart. I don’t hate them, I just don’t want them
In my house. And I cried and couldn’t stop. And I don’t cry. It’s all
just so exhausting. Poor mice. Poor us.
We have mice that think to do the same, running on counters quick as baby lighting bolts. Until they realize they are surrounded by cats. I feel horrid for you and for them to be engaged in an unwinnable war. And yes, maybe that was the straw… Love to you!