It’s the school holidays.
And during this time I spend a lot of time “lounging”.
Take this morning for example. It’s 10am and I am still in bed.
Yep, I’m in my PJs, tea on my bedside table, dogs firmly ensconced either side of me (wedged into me so tightly I cannot move) and my laptop is resting on a pillow to make typing more comfortable. It’s chucking buckets down outside and I can see the palm trees in my front garden blowing in the gusty wind. My bedroom is light filled and peaceful, and I don’t intend moving for a while.
It’s a crime to some people I know. I can hear my dad’s voice now reminding me that the best part of the day is already over, that it is the early bird that catches the worm and probably a dozen other cliched sayings that promote the early riser.
The thing is I am taking care of myself.
I know that I meant to be up and about, doing stuff. Because doing stuff gets us out of our rut.
But I don’t need to be doing stuff right now. I need to be, well, simply being.
In honesty, I have never been an early riser. Ever. I think my circadian rhythm is definitely set well past dawn.
But even that besides, there are days when I just need to rest.
Lately my mind has been filled with too much stuff:
There’s the housework, and the corners in my house that need reorganising and decluttering, and Master J and his year 11 homework, and my blog that could do with refining, and my new blog that I am hoping to unveil that really needs work because I haven’t even got a single post out yet, and there is something wrong with it because the home button doesn’t link to the home page and it won’t update when I do an update even though I saved it. Then there is the committee in my local Owners Corporation neighbourhood. People are contacting me because they are upset with how things are being run and being in community development, I imparted some knowledge and that person on Facebook didn’t like that so they had a go at me but other people liked it so they want me to join the committee. And then of course, there are the 20 or so e-courses that I have joined because well, I like the idea of learning but apparently not the idea of doing, so they are sitting there, bought and paid for but not learned. And there was that awful business about gay marriage. Why do those things affect me so? And then there are my friends. I’m not making much of an effort with them. I do hope they understand and I do hope they won’t feel abandoned. Then there is this weight I am trying to shift which I swear is never going to go because I know that nothing changes if nothing changes, but I don’t have the energy to change it and so it doesn’t change. And I worry about my daughter. Is she coping with her new job and how is her life with her partner and son? And there is parenting a child on the spectrum who is going through so much at the moment which is increasing his anxiety and his aggression which is upsetting to watch and to be a part of. And I am wishing all this chatter in my brain would stop and I can feel the pain in my head rise, and the fogginess increase. I can’t think clearly and I know I am drowning, and so I start to wish I was drinking again and that is really not good. But then I think that I was maybe more fun drunk, that life was more fun drunk. But I wasn’t and life wasn’t. But being drunk felt good. It felt like nothing mattered. Until the next day of course. Then it mattered a lot. It hurt both inside and out. And I can’t do that again. But that allure, that drink, sits there taunting me. Because my mind is full and buzzing and swirling and I am sinking.
And so you see, I need to be in bed. Resting. Just being.
So my mind has time to calm down.
Because I really don’t want to take that drink.
Because if I take that drink it won’t matter what goes on in my head.
And I really don’t want to take that drink.
Because that drink represents so much more than it could ever imagine. A world of pain and destruction.
And I don’t want to go down that road again. I’ve come this far.
I just need rest.
Resting is good. Bed is good. Having dogs on bed and palm trees now gently blowing outside my window is good.
Talking to you about this stuff is especially good.
Thanks for that.
(PS if you are struggling with your addiction today, you totally have my full permission to stay in bed)