The Suffering

. . . of this neglected space. Poor bloggy. I'm getting to a point where I'm hesitant to post because I wonder if I have any readers anymore. Hello world! Are you there?

After seven months of full-time work, I've switched to a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule. There are finally a few moments to breathe, to catch up, to return to doing little things that were neglected or set aside out of necessity and a bona fide lack of time. Since last June I let go of all my hobbies, allowing work to be my hobby, and now I'm finding I have the luxury of idle time at home again, time when I think it would not just be possible, but nice to work on a project or something. Knit a mitten, sew a pillowcase, paint a painting. Not that I've done any of those things yet, but it's refreshing to have a moment to even think about doing one of them.

I have started reading again--that's the one thing I've picked up, and just that is a wonderful treat, almost a guilty pleasure. And I've had more precious time to play with my darling son. On Saturday I also joined my old gym again, and that has made me so happy. I've gone four times already because I love how it feels to sweat. A real detox, I think. Exercise is a very important part of my life that I neglected since becoming a parent, thinking I didn't have time. I'm making time again, even if that means going to spin class at 5:30am, and I feel refreshed.

In my spare time this month since the M-W-F switch, I also started a new project I'm excited to be a part of: I'm editing a book. Funny--filling my time off work with more work! But I love editing, and it's a special piece of writing, by a PhD even! I hope to do more of this kind of thing in the future. I really enjoy it. And there have been a few gigs. I'm playing again with the Bach Cantata Choir soon, which is a great group. That's exciting.

Right now Sam is gone on business. I shouldn't even be doing this, I think, right now because there is always so much to do. There are groceries in the car I need to bring in. I'm making chicken salad tonight for a baby shower at work tomorrow, and then gallons of New England clam chowder tomorrow night for Stake Women's Conference. At least I like cooking, right?

I don't feel overwhelmed, per se, but I do feel this constant anxiety that I can't rest or take my mind off the millions of things that need to be done. As soon as I get home from work I have to hit the ground running--or at least I think I do--and the thought of everything that must be done is enough to paralyze me and lay me down on the couch. My head spins, and I'm not sure what to do first. Change the baby, prepare the dinner, go to the grocery store, fold the laundry, wash the dishes, sweep the floor, change the crib sheet, fill the bath, write that e-mail, make that call, pick up the Cheerios, brush my own teeth, take off my eyeliner, say my prayers. You know. All of that. It's all there, waiting for me at every moment. All I can do is close my eyes sometimes and try to forget it's waiting for me.

The night before Sam left I was lying down, again, and put on Downton Abbey on Netflix from the beginning again, and for the briefest moment I was able to let go of my guilt and anxiety and truly forget about the hundreds of tasks that constantly loom over my head. I was able to rest my mind for just a moment. It was like a single gasp of air, oxygen to my lungs, after feeling like I've been breathing through fifty layers of cheesecloth--layers of the many, many things I have to do, constantly, that never end.

It's a mindset I find myself in all too often, this mind-numbing anxiety that there is more to accomplish than I am capable of, on and on into the endless future of my life, all to the point that I'm physically exhausted even thinking about it and I attempt to sleep it off. I'm known to sleep for twelve hours if I can. Last night I went to bed at 8:30, so exhausted, and didn't get up until eight this morning.

Maybe it's just the weather. I can't wait for summer because spring doesn't really exist here, if I remember correctly. Today the sun shone, and it's like a strange memory resurfacing when it does.