Wednesday, March 22, 2017

In a season. Or, sweating like a cartoon.

Hiiiiii, Friends.
(Oftentimes when Alex texts me he writes, "Hiiiiii," with all those extra "I"s. I like it, because he says "Hi" like that out loud sometimes. Drawn out and like he's happy to talk to me because he's had a long day and I'm relief for him. I don't know if that's what he means by it, but that's my interpretation.)
I guess my extra "I"s are apt, in that case, because I haven't written to y'all in a while. And I've missed you. I've thought about you several times, but several things (acceptable and non-acceptable excuses) have stopped me from writing to you.
But here I am.
I'm not sure what I'm here to say, but I did want to drop in and chat with ya for a bit.
So let's see.
Well I've -- mostly, more or less -- concluded that I am in a SEASON right now. Ya know how that happens? You walk around feeling grumpy or lost or confused or like you're wasting your life by doing or not doing something, and this goes on for weeks or months and then finally you think, "Well maybe this will pass."
Well, I think I might be there.
Three days ago I was in tears and feeling like I might feel this not-great way forever. It was a scary* moment, and I'm not entirely sure I won't feel that way again. But today I'm feeling less frantic and more optimistic and I'm glad.
I bought myself a spiral notebook (for $3.25!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A ONE-subject, WIDE-ruled, only 70 sheets notebook!!!!! This is outrage!) at a retailer that I will not name, for I don't believe in throwing this business under the bus for their outrageous pricing.
But it is, let's be clear, outRAGEous.
Emphasis on the rage, if you didn't catch that. It's important that you do.
I bought this notebook and so far I've written in it on Saturday, yesterday and today. I'm treating it as a journal.
When I started college, my brother told me I should journal. He said I should write every day, and if I didn't feel like writing I could just write: "I don't feel like writing," and then close the notebook.
During my freshman year, I wrote every day.
That's the only time in my life I've done that, for so long a stretch.
It felt great, and I am on occasion nostalgic for that rhythm in my life.
Since I bought this ludicrously expensive notebook, I have felt overwhelmed by the obligation (that's not really an obligation because no one is forcing me to do this) to journal.
On Saturday I wrote until my dinner was brought to my table, and I stopped mid-sentence. I never finished the sentence.
I wrote yesterday in my car during lunch and got frustrated at first because I didn't have a hard surface to write on. I found a board game box in my back seat (yes) and used that and I felt better and carried on.
Today I wrote during lunch again and I really loved doing it.
I've written about headaches I've had, about my alcohol intake, about my feelings. I've mentioned things that have made me feel good and things that have made me feel bad. Ever a writer, I try to use the most accurate nouns and adjectives I can to capture just how something felt or feels.
I've fought the urge while writing to set the notebook down and google something.
I'm not saying I'm heading down some valiant journaling journey here, but I am saying that this feels good. I feel like my moods and my physical sensations (I've had a lot of headaches and have been struggling to wake in the morning due to really intense dreams) have been alllll over the place lately. Things happen so quickly -- I'm here! Then there! Thinking about this! Then that! -- that I feel like I can't keep up with them fast enough to write them down, just in a matter of fact way let alone take the time to analyze them.
(Also I hate that I'm here! Then there! I feel like I'm a cartoon who's sweating and the drops of moisture are flying off of me. The droplets never come back to touch me (read: I usually forget the thoughts as soon as they come), and I'm still whole -- I don't melt away even though I'm losing water weight. But I feel the exhaustion of being stuck on a treadmill, running and running but not covering any productive distance.)
But in the past several days I've written down some of it, and it's been helpful. I wrote down one particular thought or worry, and as soon as I got it down on the paper I felt less intensely worried about it. That doesn't mean I shouldn't address it with friends or in therapy, but it was progress. And it offered relief.
I'm grateful for this activity in my life. I'll probably go for a cheaper notebook once this one fills up, but I am fine with my $3.25 purchase.
I'm glad I have you guys to "journal" to, too. You can thank me later (or now. You're choice) for not filling up this blog with the ins and outs of my headaches and eating choices, but rather scribbling that down in a green notebook. But I do appreciate you listening/reading to what I do write here. And to those of you who text/call/email/talk with me, you know who you are, and I thank you for all your support and willingness to listen to me ramble on and on and....
There are a lot of good things in my life right now. Through all my recent moodiness I have been lucid enough to recognize my many blessings. I do hope the negative things -- and, particularly, the sense that they are too much -- will pass.
Meanwhile, I'm glad I have you guys to say "Hi" to.
So, I'll say it again.

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