That is the shape of my body, right now.
Somehow, I’ve managed to push my head forward, pull my shoulders in, and lean into the balls of my feet so much this week, that when I roll out of bed in the morning I look like question mark. It’s like my body is trying to curl up to protect itself. Like I’m doing fetal position with such intensity in my sleep that my limbs and spine resist any waking corrective movement.
And, my face? Well, I’m not going to pretend that those creases between my eyebrows are ever going to go away. I’m all about aging gracefully, but c’mon, now. I looked at myself in the mirror last night and, having not plucked or waxed in WAY too long…. Well, I look a bit like a sepia tinged photo negative of Yosemite Sam. You know, if Yosemite Sam were being used to illustrate an elementary punctuation activity.
My eyes and my face and my body are asking, “Why did this happen?”, even though I know the answer.
I was so angry, last night. Angry at myself for not being able to get all my stuff done. Angry for feeling so tired and sick and sad. Angry at the kids for not being quieter. Angry at my husband for not being able to read my mind. I stood in the front room and shouted nonsense, shouted because it was late and supper wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to cook it and I had just. fucking. caught. my. limit. I should be stronger than this, right? I should be able to be as kind and respectful to my family as I am to my extra kids and clients, right?
Yeah, right.
Anyway, I need to go for a run today. I need to do a full 90 minute vinyasa session. I need to hang out with my kids and get their school shopping done and just be the four of us playing outside in the sunshine….
It’s okay to be drawn back down into the dark. We’re human. We go there to heal. It is not okay to stay there, not for me. This life is for living.
Oh my dear, even the brightest of us go into the dark sometimes. I can’t imagine it ever taking a hold of you. By the way, I love that your blog takes me right into the center of your experience. Immediately and (it seems) effortlessly.
I’m a little overwhelmed by your compliment. Thank you so much! I actually lived in the dark for too many years, and have worked hard on living the joy ever since. Sometimes it’s a lot more work than joy, but I’m told that’s what makes it so worthwhile :)
Glad you are such a smart lady and realize it is OK for you to be that question mark girl for now. It is also a very good thing that you are human like the rest of us — that way we can relate.
Blessings on you and your family for a quick peaceful healing. Hugs.
Thanks, Shonnie. We’re getting there!
Great post! I am not married, and do not have kids but the everyday pressures of life, family, work make everyone feel a bit down once in a while. It was great to read your reflections.
Thank you! I agree that feeling so tense and broken isn’t exclusive to people with small children at home. And I think that this universal aspect of pain does make it more tolerable. I hope you’re having a good day, today.
This was a moment that strikes us all & the way you discuss it resonates with me. Sometimes it builds up & you either want to scream or throw something! I always find that I wallow in this feeling for ten minutes to satisfy a need, and then internally slap myself and carry on! Keep going Desi…a lovely post. Thank you x
It’s the internal slap that I needed, that’s for sure, because the carrying on feels so much better than trying to pack all that misery down. Thank you for your kind compliment and your little hug. I appreciate it!
Sometimes, we have those days. You’re shaped like a question mark. I’m feeling more like a kangaroo with no baby in the pouch but I am working on it. :-)
lol I like that visual. I once packed my son through the Calgary Zoo, and he spent the entire trip in the Ergo carrier because he had an ear infection and needed to be that close to me. We came to the kangaroo exhibit and the mother kangaroo just looked so TIRED with her wee joey packed in his pocket, giving her random kicks with his knees and pokes with his fingers and elbows. All I could think was, “Honey, I FEEL YOUR PAIN!” Thanks for stopping by – your work is GORGEOUS, by the way – and best of luck with your kangaroo pouch ;)
Oh, I’ve had those days. Without the dedicated running, though. Or the Vinyasa stuff. :) But, it’s normal. I think if we’re good mothers, we rack ourselves with guilt over it- but, we can only resolve to do better tomorrow. I made it through a scary period where we didn’t know what was ahead- and the thought that I might not be with my kids for much longer- was life-changing. Everything changed. I go to bed every night with a question. If this were my last day, am I happy with how I lived it? That was almost 2 years ago (and I’m totally fine, btw) and I still go to be with that question. Some days, the answer is a resolute “no”. But, others (and often the simplest of days full of nothing spectacular other than togetherness), I think, this was a good day- possibly my best day. I hope you have a best day soon.
Love this. I think that same question when I’m running or moving through vinyasas. If this were my last day, would I be happy with today? Togetherness is our only plan for this weekend. Aside from my time by myself to work out my poisons, we cleared our calendar so we could couch and watch movies, hang out with each other and play in the sunshine. I hope we have a best day soon, too. Thank you, sweet lady.
You’re welcome! Today was kind of rough for us, too- so I’m doing the same. Tomorrow- it’s kid time. Happy kid and mom time. Resolutely. :) Good luck!
You are right it is for living, but sometimes we need to dig into the muck under our foundations to ground ourselves again.. Found the foundation yet? ok up and at ‘im now! c
Oh, my foundations were cleanly exposed! I do see the value of being laid bare. That perspective reset, however painful, is so necessary. But it’s time to backfill the good stuff, repurpose the bad stuff, and get back to the business of breathing. Up and at ‘em is right, Cecilia!