The middle of the night is the only time I feel like I have myself to myself. It is also the worst time to write, or sew and expect to be able to go to work the next day. Well crap.
Sometimes I come home for lunch just to be alone for 15 minutes. Even if the family all backs off and know Mom's in time out, their enerigies are there. My darling love is wondering and reaching out to me with his heart- it is not the same as just being alone to recharge, to find restful peace before starting it all at full bore again. I keep telling myself, because others keep telling me- there is always tomorrow, or next week- and it fills me with rage.
Later is the kind of thinking that has it all ending up being too late in the end. I've spent too much time waiting. I have full faith in all of you to be able to figure it out. Leave me to me. I don't want to go out. I want to stay here, alone. And when I come out in 3 or 4 or 8 or 12 hours, it will have helped and I won't resent being needed, or the being the only one who knows what to do. As much. The thing with moms needed to take time for themselves is something we know in a full "no Shit" capacity. It's everyone else who needs to respect that fact, and give it to us. I don't feel that this need is respected by anyone. Otherwise, they would not tell me to just do it tomorrow, or next week. And if I had that feeling about making dinner......? It's starting to sound like a reasonable idea to pack up the sewing room and let the boys have it for play room. I'm not using it and they could. And it makes me sad that I feel like my need to have my own kind of recreation feels so disrespected that it does sound like such a reasonable idea. I packed it all into the attic before when the boys were all in diapers. It cracked my heart a little each day to see what was such a part of me having to be ignored. It was less painful to put it all out of sight and forget how it felt to feel peaceful creation. There was a bit of release when I did that- like when I mowed over the gardens, or decided to stop clearing the work benches- a relief that I didn't have to be sad about it anymore because it was gone. And I stare at the TV doing nothing and feeling like I don't know anything anymore. Worse part is, I can see the same broken heart behind the eyes of the boys about the things they used to love. No time or soul to play baseball with Patrick, teach Richard to sew, play music, rock climb, draw, paint, build- I don't even know what they like anymore. I don't know any of us anymore it seems. It makes me very sad that this is the only kind of writing I can come up with because of the emotional, mental, and spiritual log jam feels iced over with no signs of spring in sight. Even more so that I have to rant and demand to get respected time alone. That feels dirty- not at all helpful or healing. I don't remember the last time I relaxed- that I was not in full speed ahead mode. I some how think if I get what needs to get done, then I will have time for myself to enjoy the things that being me peace- as long as no one else needs something from me, even if it is just love. I'm tapped out and it's hard work to scrape the inside of that barrel. Me, what I do, my time, does not feel important enough in others minds. I want to run away from home. Or change the locks, albeit temporarily. So this is Purgatory-
There's always next week, I'm told.
Back to bed. Being so worn out will not help my defeated feeling. It only makes it worse. I had a life goal to be a force of change for myself, and not a complainer. That goal is out the window tonight. I do feel better though. Thanks for listening.
I call it my “melancholy”; Leslie calls it her “cave time”, but it’s the same. It’s a need to recharge in order to continue to tackle the world emotionally and make progress physically. I think most people run around and give in to mood swings because they don’t understand their own circadian rhythms. Luckily, you do recognize it. I know it doesn’t help though. Perhaps it even makes it a tad worse because even though you know what you need, you can’t get it when you need it most because life won’t stop or even take a break. All this to say, I do understand. I would suggest though that you keep your sewing room. Hang on to what brings you peace, even if it doesn’t at the moment and seems impractical. Impracticality is really creation in a down swing. It will rise again. Just like you will.
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