The longer I live, the more introverted I become. I just want to crawl inside an oyster and create my own little pearl. Today Oliver built a fort around me as I lay on the floor. He kept yelling in through a crack, “Everting otay in dere, Mama?” It was.
I’ve had high anxiety lately. My hair started falling out like the post baby shed. I went to the doctor to have my blood work done. Vitamin D, thyroid, iron.
As I sat there in the room waiting to talk with the Physician’s assistant, I became enamored with a picture of an elderly black woman on the wall. She looked so genuinely beautiful. Not bells and whistles and gold that doesn’t glitter…an inner peace and contentment. Someone who knows life. Who won’t take anyone’s crap, but will be ready to let you drink deep their well of kindness and wisdom. All from one picture! (Pretty sure my dad took the picture…I’ll have to let him know.) Perhaps I was putting my own desires for who I want to be on her, but it happened all the same. She made me crave depth.
When I was talking with the PA I started crying. She asked me, “Are you feeling anxious right now?” I said no, but I was. I said I get enough sleep but I don’t. I said I am not too busy, but I am. Book, art, kids, friends, family, house. Beau and I have been working through my desire to do everything and really well. What ends up happening is everything and very poorly. After Christmas I sat on the couch for two days while Beau did everything around me. Everything felt broken. Relationships, our house, my parenting, my hormones. I couldn’t escape it and I felt like there was really something wrong with me.
So I was surprised to find nothing in my bloodwork was off. Everything was normal.
So now there is no excuse for me to not try to settle my flutter heart down.
I have to make some hard decisions about how I spend my time. I can’t allow my attention to be drawn by drama. My children and my husband and I need my attention, and crying about the latest whirlwind of emotions is not productive. This includes teaching myself to just NOT CARE about the things that really don’t matter.
I have to be realistic about my aspirations while my children are still little.
I don’t have time for perfection, only progress. As my friend Juliana says to her depressed clients: one step at a time. Make a plan for tomorrow. An easy one you can accomplish. Like, take a shower and go on a walk (Which is actually really hard with kids, haha!) and accomplish it. I am so hard on myself with goals. I get flustered by the weight of them and can’t accomplish anything. I need to calm down and learn to relax.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the new year. The new year doesn’t usually tick in my brain until my birthday, the 10th.
I am turning 30.
Maybe that’s where all this anxiety is coming from.
But it shouldn’t be.
I want this to be the end of me chasing after physical youth and beauty and the beginning of something deep and pure. That’s exciting. The chaff is about to be blown away, and the treasures stored inside will brighten. I want to be like a geode full of sparkling gems, like an oyster with a hidden pearl. I can’t hold on to the golden light of youth, but I intend to be a prism as it passes me by.
I’m not saying I’m going to stop wearing tinted moisturizer and glitter lip gloss…I’m saying I want this general sense of wanting to be the cats meow to stop. Is that just me? In our early years isn’t there this pressure to thin out and look cool and be popular? To some extent? In whatever circle we run in? Well it’s dumb. I want off this ride.
I want to be healthy, happy, warm hearted, and adventurous. To be TRUE. And to be BRAVE enough to say no to what takes any of that away from me.
Here inside I am protecting my heart. Last year was all about opening it, and this year is about creating a sieve that catches all the bad juju. A dream catcher, if you will. Here inside I am raw and young and beautiful. Like the BFG’s cave full of glowing good dreams.
Happy New year.