So, my birthday came and went, uneventfully, which was how I wanted it. It was also the anniversary of my breakdown. Maybe I should have watched that security video while eating popcorn, to show myself how far I’ve come in a year, but to be honest, I’m not sure I’m ready.
I’ve been really sicky sick all week. A migraine, vomiting, I could barely move without feeling like throwing up. I caught a bug. I won’t say from whom, but he knows who he is, and he knows I’m not thrilled with it. I haven’t moved much this week, and it’s beginning to take a toll on my psyche. I’m anxious and irritable, tired and achy but itching to get up and do something. And I’ve honestly been too exhausted to talk about it, explain what’s going on, and that frustrates me even more. Chad and I talk all the time, about everything and nothing, I can tell him these things and he’s patient enough to let it take 10 minutes to get a sentence out, but I’m upset with myself for letting it bother me that I can’t. Again, I’m hard on myself. I’m allowed to have days when I just can’t. I just need to keep reminding myself.
I am anxious to get back to living again. This flu has taken a toll on me, it really has. I feel a bit emotionally fragile as a result, I almost feel like I’m on a hair trigger and I have no idea what that’s going to bring. Crying? Screaming? Anger? Not being able to get out of bed for a month? I’m okay with crying. The rest of it, not so much. That takes too much away from me. Crying just dehydrates me. And gives me a headache.
I actually had a really good cry yesterday. My best friend’s mom (my other momma growing up; I was in her house as much as I was in my own) gave me an incredible gift yesterday. She and my mom loved quilting and bonded over it for many years. Momma G (HA! That’s a good name… I’m going to have to show her this post, she’ll love this. She’s so gangsta LOL) made me a quilt with fabrics that were from my mother. It’s so homey and comfortable, it’s basically her in quilt form. Well, I had me a good cry over that, let me tell you. I may have ended up curled up with the quilt, sucking my thumb, but that’s a story for another time.
Maybe that’s what I needed. To let it all out. Maybe I’ll start to feel better now. Holding on to stress and nagging thoughts and sadness is like shovelling shit against the tide (not sure where this came from, but mom said it all the time… mom-ism dictionary translates it to something being pointless. Like walking up the down escalator). Exhausting. That word describes my life sometimes. I can’t let that be the word that describes my life.
2016 shall be brighter. I will channel my inner Jean Luc Picard and “make it so”.