In Wegmans today, Ralphie grabbed my leg and told me that he hoped I would feel less sad soon. I know kiddo. There were a lot of people around, the sounds and lights were too much and I was trying to find solid ground for my nerves.
I am usually pretty good at hiding the sour from him, but today he picked up on it enough to feel compelled to give me a hug. He knows my love language is physical touch. It got me through to our driveway.
He ran off to play while dinner was cooking and I actively told myself, “get your crap together, determine what’s actually bothering you, and/or get the heck over it.” Strange how I included the “and/or” right? I had this whole debate in my head:
1) figure “it” out and get over it
2) OR don’t figure “it” out, but still get over it.
Trying to cure the sour reminds me of a Charlie Day meme; mapping out the triggers and the reactions and the roads to possible mental healing. I have been working and working to get myself out of this mental funk.
I did walk the back paths with Maple, but 45 minutes of sunshine is only 45 minutes of sunshine and the news podcasts I usually listen to are dedicated to Ukraine and it makes my heart heavy and my personal frustrations feel frivolous.
I did meditate. I used my app, my friend and I went through our box method, the 3, 2, 1 methods, more of the youtube calming music.
I did bird watch but ultimately felt frustration that the desired bird denied me of its presence.
I did allow myself to watch TV to see if I needed mindless matter (it actually made it worse).
I did talk to my sister because her problems actually make my problems dwarf, but I ended up angry about barn cats, my mother’s health insurance, and mean roosters.
I did run into a cousin, but couldn’t even muster through the small talk without visualizing a perfectly delivered, solid throat punch to his ignorant, white-privilege face.
I did volunteer for a field trip to go “mapling” and I celebrated the spring open house at Ralphie’s elementary school. His art, his reading, and his stories are what have gotten me through to this point.
I did listen to music: soft, slow, my favorites, Taylor Swift, Encanto, Ralph’s favorites – all increased the size of my hackles.
I did work and effectively crossed items off of my to-do list. The normal satisfaction stripped away by the sour.
I cleaned. I took a long shower. I snuggled Maple so fiercely. I read. I wrote.
I am at a current loss which is why I am writing and posting so late.
Not fishing for praise or affirmations. I am just hoping that this act of venting will get me through to next Tuesday when my next scheduled session of help will give me more formal guidance.