I’m ready. I’m looking forward to it. I’m planning in my head how to spend the day (though the first couple days are always easy), and making sure I have lots of sparkling water and treats on hand.
I plan to start the day sending light because it always makes me feel good to help others, and it puts me in a good frame of mind for the day, too.
I have a TBR pile that’s pretty big, and it has quite a few cozy mysteries for the days when my brain isn’t up to intricate books. I’ll add thing to my sobriety toolbox as the month goes, on, and remove anything that isn’t really helping me deal with TBB.
One big change, that I’m not looking forward to, is that I start work on the 5th. No masks sends me over the freaking-out edge, and while I’ll do my best to be as careful as I can, I know that being the only one masked (even a good mask) isn’t enough protection. My stomach has really been tied to my emotions more than ever, and I already have lots of butterflies. I’ve tried to find a work-from-home, and to make my healing work my living, but neither has happened. I’m sad. Very sad.
Wish me luck! And if anyone else is doing Dry July….we can do it!!!
I came up with that phrase a few years ago (or whenever it was that I read the fork theory), and it so applies to my life right now. Lots of responsibilities (many of which I am simply letting drop to the wayside, though they need to be taken care of), and worry, so much worry. I’m stressed beyond words because it looks like there’s absolutely no way I can avoid re-entering the workforce, even though that pitchfork will send me crashing. And that means the physical pain (especially the new one) will cause issues that most likely will cause me to lose yet another job, and the thought of all of it has me on edge and running out of spoons almost before I even get out of bed (thanks, kitty, and your “I’m awake, why aren’t you, the sun is almost up and I need to be fed even though there’s food in my bowl” meowing every morning).
I keep pretending something magical will happen and my schedule will be filled with retainer plans, and lots of 3-session packages, and everything will be fine. In reality, unless I win the lottery, I’m screwed. The clock is ticking and I can’t avoid what must be done anymore. The thought makes me want to scream and burst into tears because being let go from a job due to your body rebelling against whatever the hell it’s rebelling against makes a person feel like a failure. And means more frickin’ interviews, pushing myself to be extroverted when I’m far from it, and the whole damned merry-go-round. Again.
Then there’s the caregiver worries, such as what if he falls while I’m at work? What if he’s having one of the days where he can barely get out of bed or walk? How will he eat when he can’t make it to the kitchen? What if it’s a good day and he decides to go into the garage and hurts himself trying to do something he still thinks he can do no problem, but it leaves him immobilized for days, and I have to leave him alone for those days?
No wonder I can’t sleep lately. That and the fact that the minute I get comfortable and start to fall asleep, my legs decide it’s party time. Sigh.
Luckily I’ve been able to distract myself a bit with a Firefly marathon, lots of reading, and 3 sessions for someone with chronic migraines. Today (Sunday) is her last session. She’s away from home, so I haven’t been able to check in and see how it’s going on her end, but I know the energetic flow is really strong on mine.
I hope you’re all doing ok!
With hope and love,
PS: all 30-minute sessions (except for the Retainer Plan) are still 45-minutes for the same price until the end of May! Get your session(s) here!
PPS: I’m trying very hard to live by this quote I found recently (and foolishly didn’t write down who said/wrote it or what book it was in):