Balderdash on the Brain.
I've not been writing much lately and the lack of making time is getting to me. The reality of life can always be an excuse but there are myriads of others to use, an oxymoron really is the best one for me: I have too much to say.
Once, while pregnant with my third and visiting family for Thanksgiving, I lost it in front of everyone. The women, at least five grown and three little girls in tow, had all gone shopping and left the men home to cook supper and converse. Much to my dismay, and to the continued and every progressing growling of my daughters' tummies, the men hadn't started cooking when we came home and hadn't done much in the way of organizing the raw food to prep it even. Upon walking into the kitchen, I was met with sound and laughter and questions and options. I looked straight at my husband and said, "I'm overstimulated and my brain is full." Well, said implies that there was a modicum of calm in the timber of my voice and at that point I doubt there was. He understood my meaning, though, whether through the words or the tone and came to my aid readily.
I have a feeling that my husband's and my head, as well as the kids' are all just as full now, though probably not with the same thoughts and concerns. This stuffing makes us sloth-like at the end of summer, I can see that. I can feel it moving from my head through my nerves and into my blood. It feels like sludge is thickening every fiber of my being and I am loathe to find a treatment for it. Not that I haven't tried, giving sleep an effort and caffeine more than the once over, I have been longing for an easy kick-start to my system. I know what needs to be done, what will really be effective and the truth is? I don't want to do it. I don't want to put in the effort and time to motivate myself into moving again.
What gets you going again when you are so overwhelmed? So overworked and overwrought that functioning beyond daily life is something you can look forward to doing? I'm telling you what does it for me, though many of you already know what releases my block- just words. It's simple and yet the most difficult thing to do these days, to make the time away from my well-worn seat on the couch to sit upright at my office desk. It is out of the ordinary now, to work at life, letting go ideas that are like spaghetti in my noodle, to tease them out gently until they make sense, each pulled in a line until it is written on the page.
I can tell you why I haven't written and the excuse isn't pleasant. Having too much to say is ugly, especially when putting those ideas on a page means being vulnerable. I know what avoiding Grief can do to me so it shouldn't be easy to thrust it aside in favor of life, but life has been busy and building up in my brain all the same. What can I say then? The truth of my days, the naked exposure of putting myself on the line will have to do...it's the only way to get moving again, to thin the blood and stretch the nerves, to unclog the mess inside my head. You all will just have to keep judgment to yourselves when it comes to reading the bungles and oversights and all around bedlam that has become our lives.
Does it ever get that way in your head? The thoughts and ideas bouncing around, crowding everything together and jumbling it into a mess rather than a clear and delineated cerebration. It feels like craziness to me right now, this absolute chaos that cannot be calmed and quieted neither inside nor out the confines of my brain. It's best to state it to my family when it gets to this point, I've figured that out on more than one occasion.
I have a feeling that my husband's and my head, as well as the kids' are all just as full now, though probably not with the same thoughts and concerns. This stuffing makes us sloth-like at the end of summer, I can see that. I can feel it moving from my head through my nerves and into my blood. It feels like sludge is thickening every fiber of my being and I am loathe to find a treatment for it. Not that I haven't tried, giving sleep an effort and caffeine more than the once over, I have been longing for an easy kick-start to my system. I know what needs to be done, what will really be effective and the truth is? I don't want to do it. I don't want to put in the effort and time to motivate myself into moving again.
What gets you going again when you are so overwhelmed? So overworked and overwrought that functioning beyond daily life is something you can look forward to doing? I'm telling you what does it for me, though many of you already know what releases my block- just words. It's simple and yet the most difficult thing to do these days, to make the time away from my well-worn seat on the couch to sit upright at my office desk. It is out of the ordinary now, to work at life, letting go ideas that are like spaghetti in my noodle, to tease them out gently until they make sense, each pulled in a line until it is written on the page.
I can tell you why I haven't written and the excuse isn't pleasant. Having too much to say is ugly, especially when putting those ideas on a page means being vulnerable. I know what avoiding Grief can do to me so it shouldn't be easy to thrust it aside in favor of life, but life has been busy and building up in my brain all the same. What can I say then? The truth of my days, the naked exposure of putting myself on the line will have to do...it's the only way to get moving again, to thin the blood and stretch the nerves, to unclog the mess inside my head. You all will just have to keep judgment to yourselves when it comes to reading the bungles and oversights and all around bedlam that has become our lives.
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