Sucksucksucksucksuck. That's what this day has done from hour one. For no particular reason other than the fact that I'm lost in my own house. Which would be great if that were literal and I lived in a supremely huge abode cleaned by anyone other than me.
I'm having a harder time with being alone all day long than I thought that I would, which sounds crazy coming from the woman who was counting the milliseconds until the time came. I'm feeling a bit like my tracks have grown over with weeds.
Let me clarify.
I am encountering large amounts of trouble getting motivated each day, feeling like I'm puttering around the house like a retired hobo. There. I said it.
I didn't feel like I led a particularly meaningful existence to begin with, and now I feel lower than that.
Let me also clarify that I do not wish for my children to be back home all day long. I am enjoying the solitude and house to myself, it is just affecting me differently than I had imagined it would. Instead of feeling full of potential and flying high with the power of time on my side to tackle all kinds of projects, I am struggling profusely to get anything done. Because what I need to get done is not at all what I wish to be doing.
Wow. That sounded incredibly selfish and immature.
Doing what I need to be doing produces the most mundane of feelings inside me - makes me feel like I'll waste away at any moment; and doing what I want to be doing produces terrific feelings of guilt and frustration because 1.) I'm not doing what I need to be getting done, and 2.) what I want to be doing is frivolous and seen by no one and produces no income or really, anything of consequence at all.
Taking my journalism degree and folding it into the shape of a spider monkey seems like it would be about the best use of my time and efforts right now. I'm not sure what the missing piece of the puzzle is, nor do I know where to look for it.
So I putter. And search. And pray. And wonder how long this can go on before I'll need to double my medication.
photo by Cathy Kaplan
Could it be your mind and heart are saying to take some time to be selfish for awhile? You've spent the last x number of years taking care of everyone and that was your purpose, meaning, livelihood. If the laundry didn't get done because you were handling the day to day challenges of your family, that was a valid excuse in your mind. If the laundry doesn't get done because Holly just wanted to twist a rubber band all day and watch HGTV or whatever, those 'reasons' aren't as valid because the other reason is more important.
ReplyDeleteI don't know? I've had similar feelings some days when I just can not get my to do list done. And darn you Chris for spending all that time reading that stupid magazine or chatting with people outside these walls. You SHOULD be doing xyz...bad mommy, bad wife.
I got over it in time. I realized my mental to do list was gobs longer than anyone else expected it to be. I figured out how to be an adult minus her shadow for 6.5 hours each day. You will too eventually. Then you'll wish maybe, just maybe the school wouldn't let out for another hour...
Hang in. I'd say your response to the changes is totally normal. Enjoy your time to yourself. You have a right to it...
well spoken, Chris. Holly, you are too hard on yourself. How's that for insight! Love you and praying for you.
ReplyDelete"When a woman makes the choice to
ReplyDeletemarry, to have children -- in one way her life begins but in another way it stops. You build a life of details. You become a mother, a wife and you stop and stay steady so that your children can move. And when they leave they take your life of details with them. And then you're expected move again only you don't remember what moves you because no one has asked in so long. Not even yourself."
('The Bridges of Madison County')
You expressed yourself so well in this post. Thank you for sharing. I've felt that way so many times over the years. Just when I thought I had some of my alone time figured out along came Noah. Now, Luukas is 18 and Noah is 4. Here I am trying to 'figure' it out again . . .