Quote from my youngest tonight: “I don’t like it when you go to work.” For those keeping count, this would be the second knife to the heart. But it was only a small one and didn’t dig as deeply.
Enjoyed Dave Matthews Band in concert here last night. Man. That is some seriously inspiring music. All I could think as I was walking out was how I needed to really start writing again. There is something about being around that kind of talent and joy in art that digs into your brain. It unleashes something.
So tonight, no I did not write, but I danced for about an hour or so with the kids. Bren and I took turns finding music videos for different songs we wanted to enjoy or share or try. It was the second night of inspiration and somehow, after all the miserable sleep I’ve been NOT getting lately, I found this place of peace and joy.
What are the answers? Easy – friendship. kinship. children. laughter. music. expression. and yeah, some good food mixed in does help. Isolation can be the easy way out. But isolation does nothing to ease your spirit or soften the black times.
Helen’s face last night as she was digging the groove – even with the beer dumped on her head (forgive me, but it was cold and shocking and still I couldn’t help but feel a horror-tinged laughter… the poor woman who did it was truly mortified… Helen was a good sport).
My kids tonight – loving the music and dancing in that disjointed, non-rhythmic way that they get from their dad (just kidding).
Watching Bren’s face as we listened to DeeLite or Rob Zombie or Nirvana or Snow Patrol or Snap or … the list goes on.
Watching Aidan as he joined in, demonstrated acrobatics, or just sang along.
…snippets. That’s what these are.
What are the answers? These tiny snippets that make up the part of the day when you really feel alive. The rest is probably marking time, doing what has to be done as a part of a system that sometimes seems backward and unreal. I’m going in to the doctor tomorrow afternoon and I’ll tell her that the medicine has been accelerating my depression into something ugly. I know it and I feel it. I suspect it’s because of the impact it has been having on my sleep issues (increasing them) and that is a seriously poor fit for me.
Time to figure out another plan of attack.
I’m heading to bed now, with this line of prose tripping through my brain – something I started thinking about last night, during the concert. If I gather my courage to the point where I’m willing to commit it to paper, I might share it. Or I might ignore it until it fades away and I can’t bring it back to mind, no matter how much I try.
A last thought. I don’t hate my job. I have no intention of leaving it. I just came through the worst 6 weeks of my working life and I survived it. Hell, as I told Helen last night, I survived childbirth (and that was hellish with Pitocin), so I can handle this.
It doesn’t mean my heart is there. That’s at home, with my two small guys.
Frankly, I think that’s exactly where my heart should be.