I opened Illustrator the other day and got lost in it. It pleased me to see lines and shapes be some thing recognizable. It felt defining again in a way, this is something I Do, something I am. I've not been defined by ability and talents recently. Perhaps by my baseline interpersonal skills that remain even when I'm in crisis mode... my ability to continue to care for my kids.
Everything is crumbling around me. I honestly can't tell when I'm being overly dramatic anymore, because it feels so appropriate to be upset. I think I've been under reacting, walking around numbly for so long that any emotion feels like an over reaction. It feels like an immediate reason to berate myself.
So. I will cry this morning. I will pull it together and put on makeup and volunteer in the third grade classroom this afternoon.. I will come home and go through the motions, attempt homework with the kids and housework and dinner. We will go to the Winter Festival this evening. I will smile at the PTA moms and try to keep my self loathing down where it's mostly invisible.
.. and then I'll come back here, and regret that I spoke words.
It's hard to fade away into obscurity when you speak.
It's hard to be forgotten when your thoughts leak out your fingers too.