Saturdays in sixteen
Saturday - Week 1
Organised my kitchen. Yes. Slowly but steady. Only one room left. Amazing.
Dream last night: a ground floor building was completely emptied out, it was moments before the film-crew would arrive and while waiting, the people present cooked steaks on the floor and other food.
This I didn't get until later today when I was working on the kitchen: the floors must have been clean enough to eat off - which in real life is not the case.
Saturday - Week 3
Backlash. Feel awful today, but have to take into account the full moon tomorrow, it has an effect on me. Past weeks and ongoing are the Two Steps Back. But the one step forward - the one degree course correction - did happen and had immediate effect. The cat came by more often and my face lost ten years; I looked lovely for a few days.
Then the two steps back started and with that staying inside, eating heaps, worrying and extreme anxiety, fear. What else? With me it always comes down to lots and lots of fear. Staggering how much fear a person can walk around with each day. Vast quantities, a seemingly never-ending supply.
In 2015 I had a moment of real relaxation and enjoyment. It was on a long walk when I noticed a sitting area near the water's edge.
It was very comfortable and I sat there, leaning back against warm concrete, watching sunlight sparkle on the river when Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" came on the radio. I'd never heard it before and it was perfect. I enjoyed that moment. It was warm and wonderful.
Last year I drew an exuberant tree in my half-sleep, and it was better than anything I could have made while awake.
Last week I dreamed about rectangles of stained glass; someone was trying to destroy them, burn them, and when I saw them I knew they were my creations. Designs of a sun.
I've been sketching this sun. Nothing big, no real work, but it's better than nothing. Maybe nothing comes of it again, but it's good to be doing something like this, trying out colours and stuff.
Last night I had a tiny glass of Ouzo, because my muscles needed to relax. Imagine being so tense all the time, with shoulders set in concrete. Sometimes my body needs a break. A shame that it makes me lose my clarity, it seems like I waste all the time it takes for the alcohol to leave my body and mind. Useless time. Any time apart from sleep that is numbed in some way is a waste of time. That's how it feels.
Anyway, not much to say now. I want to get all this on the computer before February starts [oh well] but it's a LOT of typing.
The rules, the pressure I put on myself.. it's ridiculous. I notice more of that shit lately (because I'm willing to) and yes, I am my own prison guard and a mean sonnoffa[bleep]. Berating myself all the time, listing over and over all the things I have to do, improve, get done, etc etc. My shoulders tense up just writing this. --> 'Cracking noises.'
I've stood and listened carefully, but I can't detect any regrets or doubts about not choosing the family route of husband and kids.
I wouldn't know how to do that anymore anyway, but the main thing is: no regrets. However this turns out, whatever happens or doesn't happen, I don't feel bad about the road I've taken. It's the only one I could have taken. This is my path.
Organised my kitchen. Yes. Slowly but steady. Only one room left. Amazing.
Dream last night: a ground floor building was completely emptied out, it was moments before the film-crew would arrive and while waiting, the people present cooked steaks on the floor and other food.
This I didn't get until later today when I was working on the kitchen: the floors must have been clean enough to eat off - which in real life is not the case.
Saturday - Week 3
Backlash. Feel awful today, but have to take into account the full moon tomorrow, it has an effect on me. Past weeks and ongoing are the Two Steps Back. But the one step forward - the one degree course correction - did happen and had immediate effect. The cat came by more often and my face lost ten years; I looked lovely for a few days.
Then the two steps back started and with that staying inside, eating heaps, worrying and extreme anxiety, fear. What else? With me it always comes down to lots and lots of fear. Staggering how much fear a person can walk around with each day. Vast quantities, a seemingly never-ending supply.
In 2015 I had a moment of real relaxation and enjoyment. It was on a long walk when I noticed a sitting area near the water's edge.
It was very comfortable and I sat there, leaning back against warm concrete, watching sunlight sparkle on the river when Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" came on the radio. I'd never heard it before and it was perfect. I enjoyed that moment. It was warm and wonderful.
Last year I drew an exuberant tree in my half-sleep, and it was better than anything I could have made while awake.
Last week I dreamed about rectangles of stained glass; someone was trying to destroy them, burn them, and when I saw them I knew they were my creations. Designs of a sun.
I've been sketching this sun. Nothing big, no real work, but it's better than nothing. Maybe nothing comes of it again, but it's good to be doing something like this, trying out colours and stuff.
Last night I had a tiny glass of Ouzo, because my muscles needed to relax. Imagine being so tense all the time, with shoulders set in concrete. Sometimes my body needs a break. A shame that it makes me lose my clarity, it seems like I waste all the time it takes for the alcohol to leave my body and mind. Useless time. Any time apart from sleep that is numbed in some way is a waste of time. That's how it feels.
Anyway, not much to say now. I want to get all this on the computer before February starts [oh well] but it's a LOT of typing.
The rules, the pressure I put on myself.. it's ridiculous. I notice more of that shit lately (because I'm willing to) and yes, I am my own prison guard and a mean sonnoffa[bleep]. Berating myself all the time, listing over and over all the things I have to do, improve, get done, etc etc. My shoulders tense up just writing this. --> 'Cracking noises.'
I've stood and listened carefully, but I can't detect any regrets or doubts about not choosing the family route of husband and kids.
I wouldn't know how to do that anymore anyway, but the main thing is: no regrets. However this turns out, whatever happens or doesn't happen, I don't feel bad about the road I've taken. It's the only one I could have taken. This is my path.
posted by M. at 9:34 PM
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