From Freshly Pressed, a beautifully written post on the relationships men have with the women in their lives, from a man – the kind of thing not seen enough on the internet:  She’s not your mother


I’m finding my ass kicked this week.  Various things are all up in my business, and I’m very much having one of those weeks where I need to be “anywhere but here” at every varying point of the day.  So far this week, my very best moments have been those that I’ve spent asleep (well, okay, so that really isn’t that far outside of the norm, but it has been of a different caliber lately) and when I was washing my face the other night – a moment that felt like caring for myself and reminded me of when I was 19, in my freshman year of college, and had the best skin I’ve had in my entire life.  Sometimes life is just very, very odd.

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve felt quite disjointed, a hodge-podge of emotion and thought, a bowl full of ingredients that someone forgot to mix and just left sitting on the counter and never came back.  For a lot of that time, I can never quite tell just exactly how I’m feeling or what I want; at times I even have trouble deciding what I want to say in conversation.  It is not often that I do not want even to work, but I’m there too.  Maybe the best way to put it is to say that my heart, head, and soul are in chaos, and holding still is really getting to me.

The weekends, difficult as they also have been, are at least an outlet.  I don’t have to be “on” all day, every day.  I don’t have to make decisions that influence other people’s lives and family finances.  I spent almost all of last Sunday outside, a rarity for me, but it was a beautiful day and I needed it badly.  Even when my outside work was done, I chose to sit out there, just looking at the sky, watching the trees moving slightly in the breeze, not thinking – just being.  It was a welcome respite.

By Wednesday afternoons, however, I am finding that the walls start to close in again.  I am craving air and space (bet that’s the only Smithsonian joke anyone makes you think of today).  It is now Thursday, and the edges of my mind are crawling, preparing for a desperate escape attempt.  I have any portion of 100 people who want, need, and deserve my attention, but I have no small talk to make, no brilliant wisdom to impart, no constructive criticisms, no soothing comfort for other people’s troubles.  I figuratively have my running shoes on and am standing at the door, waiting for the moment that I can bolt.

That’s it for now.  I’ve hit the wall for the words.

About dyskinesia

Woman, mother, human being, grammarian. I have Attention Deficit Disorder. My child has Asperger syndrome. Philosophy, laughter, therapy, living. Life after divorce.
This entry was posted in Damn It, Therapy and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Static

  1. Swag says:

    Thank you for the ping back.

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