The Hallway's Hell?

I was late yesterday morning for a meeting in my own office but certainly not from lac of trying to get there on time. That was one of my intentions for the new calendar year at the end of December/early Jan: respect people that you are in union with by showing up to meet them on time. I am historically a dawdler. Anyhow I was up with plenty of time to spare but I was just so sluggish there was no going any faster than the mud under my skin. It was rainy out, sooo rainy that there are coastal flood advisories all over the shore. And mostly, I was tired, like blinky blinky mostly sleeping tired all day.

I was quiet for the first half-hour of the meeting even though it was very informal. Quiet in general is not usually my way. Then it came out--Kim was finishing up a recap on the latest details of her own personal transitions when I just said it, the truth of the matter. "I've been over the bridge every weekend since I quit my job. I leave Fridays and dont get back til Monday morning, sleeping on friend's sofa and hanging out late every night. I love it I'm having so much fun at home I barely am even connected to the life I still have over here! It's all I can do to keep a single foot in the game..." I was whining, had thrown myself across the conference table but in a silly, self-indulgent way, and smiling, too. Brenda laughed, said "Well if all you've done is work for the past two years all you're going to do now is party! Who can blame you? You're an overacheiver!"

And that is it. Last night I was so exhausted, just tired tired tired. And it's true, I haven't slowed down. I was sinking fast in to a drained, hopeless place when I got home from work and I willingly let myself go there. I laid on the couch and watched Seinfeld and let the hopeless feeling take me. I took a little nap. Then I asked myself what I needed, and no answer came. But I know now that that bad feeling is actually remedy-asking, a specific language of my own personal soul. I looked around my house: unpacked suitcase still in place in the corner, where it's been for three weeks in order for me to just switch outfits in and out. Dishes piled in the sink, literal stacks of papers and bills in three different places. Dust bunnies everywhere in clumps on the stained wood panels. The old me, pre-Choptank, would have been so self-scrutinizing. But last night I just sighed, smiled and realized what I needed was to clean up, to set a little order around here in order to daily enjoy the little time I have left in this fabulous place of my own. I left the tv on and took intermittent time doing dishes, watching sitcoms, sorting bills, folding clothes. I ate dinner of potato chips and cheetos bc I have no other dinner food. I even eventually vacuumed, too.

God it feels good to go easy on myself. To take care of myself, and to listen. When I first got sober this lady Debbie told me that the first year is just about learning to name your emotions, and that the only ones we can usually identify in the beginning are good and mad. And then she told me that we are like pendulums, we get plucked and off we go in the direction of happiness, and it's so good to be there that when we move then wooaaaaah now we flail over to the other side, mad. And so we go, until we learn to honor all the little subtleties of in-between. The process. Really, I believe this: if I dont care for and cherish and nurture my self, if we dont take the time to listen and be quiet, and also to run and be crazy and vital and party and embrace, then who will? Who will be gentle with me if I'm not? No one lives this life for us you know? It's up to us to be open to our selves, our incongruencies and our own funny swings. I woke this morning, quiet, peaceful, aware. Aware of how blessed I am and in acknowledgment that the transitions, the in-between places, the time when waiting in the hall for the next door to open, how that can be hell but really it isn't meant to be, or to be seen as a problem to have. How come that's how we approach life, how come that's so commonly the attitude we take to change? Despair. It's so exciting to have the infinite horizon on the distance. Exciting, yes, and terrifying too. But to get the chance to be out there--doing it. I mean, that's just it, isn't it? That's just where I am and just where I am amped to be.