Today I am completely losing my mind.
Some days when I get up, the drudgery of the day ahead of me makes me want to give up.
Days like today it sends me into a rage so stormy that anyone in the firing line may be torn apart. It certainly has the capacity to permanently scar children – who were the cause of this fekking shit in the first place.
I get it. The circumstances of my life have required surrender, of my work, over any chance of self-actualisation. My children’s future is the reward.
I get it. I’m not working in a coal mine, I’m not a slave, at least there is some welfare left in this state. I know I’m lucky.
BUT I’m also human. And I need answers to life questions like these:
If you wash the plastic bottles for recycling, don’t throw the lids on the kitchen floor. Why would you do that?!?
How the fek am I meant to know whether or not you gave the cat its medication every fekn morning? Sometimes you do, so if I give it everyday I’ll kill it. Sometimes you don’t, so if I leave this responsibility to you, I’ll kill it.
If you do the dishes, put some away as you go, so I can use my arms at the kitchen sink, without draining dishes falling in. Why would you leave them like that?!?
If you use up a toilet roll, DON’T throw the empty on the floor. Why would you do that?!?
Do you people understand that while I do all this trivial shit everyday, I don’t get any further ahead on any of the stuff that really needs done? Do you want this house to look like a hovel? Don’t you like things to be clean?
Don’t you say sorry to me – do something about it!
Look, I’ve had enough. I know some of you out there can do this stuff, and so I hear things like “I need some time for me” or “Why don’t you come out with us you need cheered up” or “I’ll come over for a cuppa”.
No you fekn won’t. There’s me and the three little pigs. I can’t keep up with them as it is. They don’t give a flying fuk, and if you come over to remind me to nurture myself, I’ll have even less time to try to tame the monster.
I am unhappy. I don’t like this life (no matter how grateful I should be). Eventually I’ll either end it, or pack my bags and leave them to wallow in it.
Tell me how grateful I should be? You come and do it.
Just crappy enough to know that seeing a Suzuki Swift just irritates me. Nothing wrong with the car, but the people who choose to buy them seem to be the same people who just need a kick up the backside in general.
Temper is also short with the non-compliant minions…
It’s been a long season. Courts, and death, and funeral… and some of the women I treasure the most have been through hell, just this season.
I am exhausted, but attempting to restart my life in small ways now.
Physically, I’m attending to my Green Prescription, and quite shocked at how unfit I’ve become so quickly now I’m older. Mainly joints and ligaments… anything that stretches or clicks, and probably shouldn’t.
Energetically, I’m sleeping. A lot. I figure I should trust my body.
Emotionally, I’m shifting away from some of the causes I pursue, because they bring me low. Even on my wee political page, I’ve always tried to post not only about the problems, but also about potential and practical solutions. But Cecil nearly finished me. I gotta recharge.
Environmentally, I’m just concentrating on home and hearth. Still decluttering while I struggle to maintain Flylady cleaning in the face of daily (and unreasonable) opposition.
Politically, I’m looking further into Socialism, as the New Zealand movement seems as deeply environmentally focused as it is socially. Their main focus seems to be combating injustice on all levels. And that suits me just fine.
Creatively, I’m hoping that my tiny bit of blogging, maintenance of my pages, and my wee tarot business are taking care of that. I know I need to be writing and even drawing more. But hell, I’m finding I just cant do everything.
Academically, I’m still learning about tarot, Jung, and archetypes – and likely will be forever. I read across a wide range of material every day – political, social, and spiritual.
Spiritually, I’m more in contact with the Moon and the seasons than I ever have been. I run my life to that clock. And that keeps me in constant communion with my Gods. Just being of the Earth.
And sexually, I’m being treated just fine! Thanks for asking.
Socially – that’s the big one for an introvert like me – I got out last night for a couple of hours for a meetup with my local Pagan group. It was bloody hard to get out of this house of small wild dependants by 5pm, but do it I did. And I will do so again every month. I love socialising, but need time to recharge after interacting with people. So as a friend I can be problematic. “Come here, I like you. Now go away for a month.” Not everyone’s cup of companionship.
So, there it is. My recovery programme.
I have come to replace the word ‘balance’ with ‘inclusivity’. These areas of my life are never in balance – they can’t possibly be. There are to many of them. But I include a little of each in my schedule – more of some as the Moon waxes, less of some as the Moon wanes. It’s not a balanced diet, because I can’t eat that much. But my intention for living as busy and as well as I do is that, over time, no nutrient is completely left out.