ADVENTURES FROM HOME, PART 1

Writing has become a chore; in fact, everything in life has become a burden. Writing has always been an outlet for me to pour out what I am feeling. It’s been hard to want to write about something non pandemic. I tell myself to snap out of it and then I go eat something. That too needs to stop; I am feeding my anxiety for sure. I vow I am going to eat better, no one is making me eat all the things that comfort me, and I am not policed by anyone…except for my clothes that don’t fit. I can do better but I am just tired. 

Emotional stress has always exhausted me more than anything else ever could; I suppose I am not alone in this. I could do physical things like digging or lifting for hours and that would feel better than the emotional havoc that is in my head.  

I have been doing this stay-at-home drill for about 6 weeks; I don’t even realize how hard it is on my psyche until I stop trying to fill with mundane tasks. I know many have had their kids at home and trying to do school and the 24/7 life that all of that entails. I am sympathetic, really, I am. Our own kids call us with the same struggles, they want help and they want to be comforted. All we can do is listen where we normally would be on the doorstep taking their kids giving the parents a break. This too, is stressful in its own way. We face time, we zoom, that’s not grand parenting. We worry the youngest will not remember us, and on it goes.

Going to the grocery store, this once was something I really enjoyed. I love food, I love buying food and making it for myself and others. It’s work now, list in hand, fearful I will forget a necessary ingredient and have to (god forbid) do without or have to go back to the store. Gloved, masked, no time to think about what this world has come to, get in, get out, all the while dodging others and trying to stay the recommended distance away. We do better if we go to stores we know the layout of. We divide the store, I go one way, she goes another, we meet at the check stand, and back to the car to safety, whew we made it. 

I hear more sirens all day and all night, when we do go out I see that there are guardrails smashed, another person has used the freeway as a race track, likely losing control. I worry about my parents that just want out of the house for a minute being a victim on this speedway. I hear gunshots into the night someone else bored or more so getting revenge. It is better to stay in, I am not living in fear, but there is nothing to do outside of the house anyway. 

Our yard looks beautiful, I am grateful that we have to do this in spring. We go for walks around the neighborhood, saying hi to people we don’t know, admiring the beautiful flowers.  If this had happened in November, my distress would surely be higher. 

I am used to managing my anxiety over adoption trauma, relationship squabbles and worrying about our kids and grandkids, throwing in this other major thing has my brain on overdrive. I am also thinking about what I should be doing, what I said I was going to do and what I am not doing.  There is so much.  I am settling in to the anxiety the pandemic has caused. Which I am not sure that is a good thing. I am not as nervous as I am distracted now and distraction is exhausting. I am still meditating every day, that is helping but I have to shoo away thoughts that invade more than ever. I exercise a little too, just to get my heart rate up a little to start the day. Routine is helping

I don’t feel like doing anything except sleep, eat and be entertained by something that requires none of my participation. 

I don’t mean to come off as flippant, I know we are all having our struggles, mine seem small in comparison.  

Deep breath, I want you to know I think we are all in this together. 

This is hard, this is exhausting be gentle with yourself and give yourself grace

Thanks as always for reading