Tag: covid

Humanity

The end, my friends.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

i should definitely not type this.

However. Tomorrow, they all go back to school, and my work day ratchets right out to fill the space. A whiz-bang.

I’ll be fine. It also happens on a tuesday, when they spend their night at their dad’s. So i will come home to a house that is quiet and empty of all the things. except seedlings, the house is full of seedlings. And i’ve been told the farm is ready to take more of my seedlings, so there will be two locations full of seedlings in a hot minute. So much explosion of growth.

And writing. (i’m not ending it)

I’ve had a really hard time getting my writing job done. really hard. I’m so damn afraid to take a break because I fear never going back. I still owe one and a half books, so I’m tied to it some. BUT goddamn. All I feel is dread about myself, and my inability to lock it down, focus, fit it in, make it work while the kids are home, spend all my spare minutes on it, all that jazz. It is not the feeling I want flourishing right now. It hurts my head.

But what happens if I stop it? If I stop saying I am paid for my words? What then? I feel a blankness descend when I think about a life when I am not talking about it, or playing with a word or two. what the hell man. I’ve painted, and stopped. I’ve grown things and stopped. I’ve quilted and stopped. The constant has been here, this blogging crater I fall into once a week or so. What if I stop writing? Will I curl up and die on the inside? I might. I don’t have a lot of faith in my inner fortitude on this one.

Will I be more upset with myself if I don’t die? Will THAT be the real death? The ability to soldier on without the beauty of the word? The end of it all. the no-spark.

I know. Maybe you can’t follow all that. Its a mood. Like the bookstack I might never get to.

like taxes.

like taxes.

  • love you guys,
  • love love.
selective focus photo of pile of assorted title books
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Pexels.com
Humanity

Again, covid.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Here we are, face to face, a couple of silver spoons.

There is no logic to why I just recalled that lyric from the opening to a ricky schroeder show from the 80s. Evidently, he is a bit of a dick. go figure. i digress.

Neither do i feel much logic in the way the cold-like covid has returned to my family nest. Just one, so far, this time. But we will see. There are two of the four of us vaccinated here now, so will the story be different this time? Hm.

I don’t know. I surrender to the gods of eighties teen sitcoms. I do not know.

I think I’m close to speechless though. So, there is that novelty.

I’ll come back soon, most likely.

sigh.

  • lovelove
Flea market finds. photo by kate @unwifedmotherexpletive
Humanity

Dickie December.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Dickie December? Yes. Its funny because my kid requested two pieces of Dickie merchandise for Christmas. and also, because life is dick-ish currently.

Nothing is really wrong, no worries.

I had a list of beautiful words, to say, to think about, to feel, and I was going to give it to you, but instead I fell into sobs in the Target parking lot. lots of them.

and herein lies todays post.

none of us are really okay. its been too long, we are missing people. we are getting old. we know that people are suffering in big ways around us, if not in our own home. My kids want game systems and there might be people hungry on my street right now. (sidenote: the parents of my kid’s pack have decided not to buy it, so i am granted reprieve from the fear that my kid will be the only one without- which was what was driving me deep down. the fear of being the failure mom.)

I’m sure that people in healthy relationships are relying on each other, and yes, i think that probably helps a whole lot. So I am missing that little bit.

But I’ve got great resources, and I’m 46 and I’ve been through this kind of thing before. In the car, while crying, I contacted my health insurance to find out who i’m covered to see as far as therapists. Texted a friend, and gave up on going in to Target. I hadn’t made a list and I would have spent a bunch of money on myself when really, I need to fucking focus on getting Christmas done, and not buy myself another scarf/lipstick/sweater I’m not really going to wear, just ’cause its pretty. I literally don’t wear any makeup at all, and I’m coveting lipsticks lately.

WTF.

The subject of the overwhelm is what we all feel right now PLUS:

I stepped on the scale and I’m five pounds OVER the number I cannot mention but have stayed at for an entire year. I have glaucoma and spent the morning having talks with my doctor and having stinging stuff put in my eye and facing the fact that on the day i can’t drive after the appt, i’m just going to sit in the car because I refuse to ask my 75 year old mother to drive me home. I’m single momming and deeply worried that I am not enough. For me, the anxiety of the covid era has WAY WAY exaggerated my low self-esteem and I heard myself talking to myself (yes, this is a thing) about how I didn’t know why I was taking this new job because I would do a crap job anyhow. (oh?) I’m in a new and very beginning stage dating situation which might not even be dating honestly and I can’t offload all this crap on him just yet. (see previous self-esteem problem).

Its truly all interwoven. And I’m just succumbing to it today. The kids are at their dad’s til 8 or so, so I can go take a bath and work on re-writing the thing thats been edited five times, again. Essentially I am removing my self and my writing voice from it, which is what I’ve been slowly realizing. Just erasing. bummer.

So there. thats a truth. I have enough. I give. I’m okay almost all the time. But I’m worn thin. We need to be holding hands right now, but a text message will do.

(not me. really, you don’t need to text me, i’m heading upwards. send a text to everyone on your list. do it.)

A better day, yesterday, sharing my bag lady look with a friend.

There is still joy. There is. Look at this photo. I’m the biggest goob you know, really. And the man who I’m doing all that re-editing for sent me a hundred bucks today because he knows how hard i’ve been working. I’m going to take a bath now. Breathe deep, my friend told me. Breathing interupts the anxiety/overwhelm. Just Breathe.