Life is surreal right now. I’m half-asleep. Too tired to wake up fully. Floating slowly in the direction of life, giving a kick now and then to make sure I keep moving in the right direction, albeit ever so slowly. Which is guess is the Right Answer for now anyway. This is where I’m supposed to be. Right? But holy hell it sucks.
And sometimes I wonder. Where is the line? How many weeks of downtime am I supposed to allow myself? I am not functioning well right now. Barely cooking, and when I do it is always simple and unbalanced meals. What are these vegetables of which you speak? No wonder we all feel so gross lately. I’m keeping up with only the very basic in housework and workwork. I’ve haven’t written anything in weeks, my websites are suffering. I think, under ideal circumstances, I’d be taken care of, but that isn’t an option here in this one-adult household and so we’re all sort of on our own right now. I’m barely mothering, too, right now. My children are fed and clean, but I’m far too snappy with too little patience and too many meltdowns too often. How long am I supposed to allow all this? Part of me wants me to give myself a fucking break and just Allow Life to Be what it is. To honor the grief. But part of me, I think that part that is less Wild, nags at me to suck it up and get back on track. I’m am feeling guilty and angry at myself for not being able to think clearly and Do Stuff.
I don’t know what the right answer is, but I hope floating on slowly is acceptable because it’s all I have in me right now.