I’ve been writing nothing for you folks.
I’ve been writing nothing, period.
Not writing is making me feel irritable. And sad. And a bit lost.
Sometimes I feel like all the demands in life push and pull me in various directions until I’m suspended in space, uncertain as to where I should land next.
Writing brings me back down to earth. It tethers me to myself, my kids, my home, my work.
So many people ask me if I’m lonely now that I spend so many evenings alone.
No, I’m not lonely. Well, not typically. I’m pretty good at entertaining myself, actually. And I work a lot.
But I do feel alone. Like, separate from everyone else. Like I’m living a life that’s parallel, but a bit twisty, from everyone else.
Mostly, I’m tired of having to make so many decisions by myself all the time.
The big decisions are exhausting: how to run my business, how to best use my money, how to conduct myself legally in this divorce and still maintain my personal ethics, how to navigate my new friendships, how to make decisions about my living situation, how to balance my work life with my parenting responsibilities…they seem endless.
And because the big decisions are weighing me down, I get overwhelmed by the little decisions. Whether to attend my networking meeting or schedule a new client at that same time. Whether to return the call of that dude who says he wants to speak to me about work but actually gazes at me like a six-year-old looks at a chocolate ice cream cone. Whether I should go to the gym or use the time to clean out the closet under the stairs in anticipation of moving one day. Whether I should try yet again to rock a pair of skinny jeans (no, I should not).
Not exactly life or death decisions, I realize. But they still keep me up at night. And conversely, wear me out to the point where I fall asleep in the laundry room while folding towels on a quiet Saturday afternoon.
Because at the end of the day, all the decisions that need to be made are mine alone.
And sometimes I quiver with the responsibility of it all.
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what can i do to help? bring buttercream over? like, right now? cause i will.
seriously though, i adore you. and want to spend as much time as i can with you. so anytime you need a friend, tell me. and if i can get the hell out of my kitchen, i will!!!
xoxo
I can’t decide if I should go for humorous and witty or caring and concerned in my reply. So tricky, because I want it to be the magical answer that fixes all your problems. What, what’s that you say, there is no possible way I could do that for you? I mean, not unless I was able to turn myself into your fairy godmother or something. Hmmm, that is obviously frustrating.
I think the aloneness would feel very overwhelming, because even though there are all these people around you clamoring to be in your world, your life, your space, you are still at the end of the day responsible for folding the towels and executing the divorce. Tricky, tricky, this life stuff.
I guess the best thing to say is this: People care. And they think about you. And if they could, they would make it better. But, they can’t, so they just sit in their homes caring instead. And hoping that in the tiniest way for the littlest bit it helps.
It all makes perfect sense…..the BIG stuff definitely makes the little stuff so much harder to get through! HUGS to you as well as lots of love. I love having you as my friend, and I hope that you know that I am always here to help and listen!! =)
Ugh. Being an adult is overrated. I wish I could come over and help you clean out the closet under the stairs. A friend (and booze) turns stuff like that from ‘brain damaging chore’ to’ fun’!
It’s not you, it’s February. I swear, I feel surrounded by nice people and wonderful obligations and it all makes me want to climb under the bed until the police dog sniffs me out. You know, only after they’ve interviewed Jon ten million times about when EXACTLY is the last time he saw me? and make sure all his old girlfriends are still alive.
Because you know, if I’m not under the bed I will be the first to say I’ve been so cranky I probably deserved it and hopefully he buried me in the forest since I like the view there, even six feet under. Sigh, even a dirt nap sound okay! So yes, I know what you mean.