A few months ago, a life thing happened that knocked me for a loop. A thing that we desperately did not want to do, was forced on us (by “forced” I mean that there were absolutely no other moral options, and by us, I mean even in the toxic abyss that is my family of origin, Hubby sees us as a team. That man is a god).
Migraines, insomnia, & stomach upset ensued. For the first time in my life, I could not lose myself in books. My hands would shake so much that I could not knit. I found it very hard to leave the house, and when I did, I could not interact with other people. It was ugly, and I have fought too hard for my emotional health to allow it to go on (It is ultimately easier (?) not to go to those dark places, than it is to climb out).
What really made a difference was finding a journal app that worked for me (Day One), and dumping everything I was feeling into it. Good, bad, admirable, not so much, it all went in there.
So what did I do? I set clear expectations and boundaries. For me, that is the easy part. Thanks to years of therapy (the duct tape of life), I know darn well how things should be. Harder is enforcing those boundaries. Mostly, I’ve done well with that one, but it is a daily battle, it does get old, and I do get tired.
It has been almost six months. The situation has improved, but still pretty much sucks. At least our home is back to being a safe space (That all by itself makes a world of difference). I’m finally, and only recently, able to focus enough to hide in a good book. Knitting continues to be a solace (I’ve been test-knitting, which I did not think I would like, but actually love). I am looking for a volunteer opportunity that would be emotionally lightweight but still of use (literacy?). I am intrigued by the mission of “WritersResist.org”, and with that in mind, am going to try to reanimate my blog. Knitting and social justice, not an original idea, but I like it.
Thanks for stopping by.