It’s All Adding Up to a Big Mess!

Sorry. I know that I’ve been MIA. I feel like I can’t focus on anything. There’s just so much. So much divisiveness, so much fear, so much hate being spewed. It’s too much. I feel like crawling in my closet and hiding for the rest of this year. Everything is just so sad.

There’s Covid-19, race protests and the stress that our world might never be the same. This is very possibly the new normal. This pandemic is not only making people very sick, some die from it, but it’s also caused huge cracks in our economy. People are worried they’ll get sick. Or, they’re worried that although they might not get sick, they won’t be able to financially bounce back. Some have politicized the pandemic. The name calling and finger pointing is asinine.

I know that we’re personally worried about being able to continue bringing in paychecks. Adrian is a carpenter. He only gets paid when there’s work to do. He has several jobs lined up, but they’re stymied by the city. They’re backed up with getting the building permits out. We just try to stay calm and do the best we can. I’ve been dealing with some medical problems. I’m not ready to publicize them yet, but suffice it to say that it just doubles the stress. Worrying about, not only the health problem, but also the costs involved in diagnosing and treating said problems, makes me want to ugly cry and run away.

When it all gets to be too much, I shut down. I completely quit sleeping at night. I don’t get out of bed until after noon. I haven’t made my bed in a week. I can’t seem to focus on one thing. I have started 4 different books in the last 10 days yet I’ve not made it passed the third chapter of any of them. I have a backlog of magazines that I’m just not interested in. I can’t work up any enthusiasm for crafting or painting. I have done a few puzzles. They’re just kind of mindless activities that allow my mind to wander and still work on them. I don’t want to talk on the phone. Hell, I don’t even want to work up the energy to take a damn shower, let alone do anything productive.

I *think* it’s progress though, that I recognize myself falling into the black hole again. I just have to figure out how to stop it. These next couple of weeks are filled with tests, procedures and doctor visits. I feel confident that I’ll be better once I have all results. It’s the not knowing that eats at your mind and plays evil games with your mood.

Writing always makes me feel better, so I will do my best to go forward with at least 3 posts a week. I so badly want to take a road trip and go fishing. I need that calm that being on the lake or at the beach brings me. Everything seems better when I’m near water. Guess that’s the Pisces in me.

I truly believe things will get better. I’m just scared that I’ll be too far gone by the time they do.

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