Here’s a theory about growth spurts: that when children approach their full or half birthdays their behavior turns upside down. It’s almost like they *feel* a storm coming (getting older, more transitions etc) but they cannot see the clouds forming, the sky darkening etc. Their response can be out of whack behavior, difficulty sleeping, etc. Then, once they reach that birthday or half birthday, they go back to being themselves again. This makes so much sense for children, but I think it makes sense for adults too. I think our deeper senses can tell when change is going to happen even, when we can’t see the telltale signs. What you’ve described - allowing yourself to submerge - while difficult or even painful, sounds like the best way to get through to the other side. Maybe it’s a change coming, maybe it’s growth, or another type of transformation. Perhaps by submerging, and giving it language, the process will not only see you through but may also be profoundly informative. And you can *always* reach out to a good friend who will always make sure your signal, your flare for help, will be seen and heard ❤️❤️
I've been dancing with frustration for a month. It started on Feb. 1st with a positive COVID test and all the symptoms except lung congestion, thank God! I was so grateful to escape that complication that my good mood prevailed in spite of the chills, fever, horrible fatigue, and losing my sense of taste and smell. Then on the 10th (my 75th birthday!) just as I was starting to recover, I woke up with a sinus infection and tooth pain so unbearable I went to the ER seeking drugs. They put me on an antibiotic, which cured my infection after 10 days while playing havoc with my digestive system. What my doctor called "post covid constellation of idiopathic symptoms" (including killer fatigue and cough-without-lung-involvement) continued to lay me low. Then on the 29th I said, "Only one more day and the evil month of February will be over. What else could possibly happen?" Two hours later I was at my optometrist with what he feared was a detached retina from coughing fits. Turns out it was an optical migraine instead. I was instructed to eliminate stress as much as possible. I'M TRYING! I've maintained my sense of humor through this entire ordeal, but today it ran out.
I haven't written a single word on my manuscript for an entire month, which means all my target dates are pushed back. That's what finally tipped me over, and today I cried. I'm grieving the loss of 30 days of writing. And I still haven't celebrated my birthday.
LIke you, Christine, I have everything to be grateful for - the fact that I've survived till my 75th birthday and have a story to write, for starters. Plus all the love and support a person could wish for. I'm known for my plucky personality, resilience, and optimism. But today it was just TOO MUCH.
Thanks for creating a space where I could put this all in writing without burdening anyone :)
Here’s a theory about growth spurts: that when children approach their full or half birthdays their behavior turns upside down. It’s almost like they *feel* a storm coming (getting older, more transitions etc) but they cannot see the clouds forming, the sky darkening etc. Their response can be out of whack behavior, difficulty sleeping, etc. Then, once they reach that birthday or half birthday, they go back to being themselves again. This makes so much sense for children, but I think it makes sense for adults too. I think our deeper senses can tell when change is going to happen even, when we can’t see the telltale signs. What you’ve described - allowing yourself to submerge - while difficult or even painful, sounds like the best way to get through to the other side. Maybe it’s a change coming, maybe it’s growth, or another type of transformation. Perhaps by submerging, and giving it language, the process will not only see you through but may also be profoundly informative. And you can *always* reach out to a good friend who will always make sure your signal, your flare for help, will be seen and heard ❤️❤️
I've been dancing with frustration for a month. It started on Feb. 1st with a positive COVID test and all the symptoms except lung congestion, thank God! I was so grateful to escape that complication that my good mood prevailed in spite of the chills, fever, horrible fatigue, and losing my sense of taste and smell. Then on the 10th (my 75th birthday!) just as I was starting to recover, I woke up with a sinus infection and tooth pain so unbearable I went to the ER seeking drugs. They put me on an antibiotic, which cured my infection after 10 days while playing havoc with my digestive system. What my doctor called "post covid constellation of idiopathic symptoms" (including killer fatigue and cough-without-lung-involvement) continued to lay me low. Then on the 29th I said, "Only one more day and the evil month of February will be over. What else could possibly happen?" Two hours later I was at my optometrist with what he feared was a detached retina from coughing fits. Turns out it was an optical migraine instead. I was instructed to eliminate stress as much as possible. I'M TRYING! I've maintained my sense of humor through this entire ordeal, but today it ran out.
I haven't written a single word on my manuscript for an entire month, which means all my target dates are pushed back. That's what finally tipped me over, and today I cried. I'm grieving the loss of 30 days of writing. And I still haven't celebrated my birthday.
LIke you, Christine, I have everything to be grateful for - the fact that I've survived till my 75th birthday and have a story to write, for starters. Plus all the love and support a person could wish for. I'm known for my plucky personality, resilience, and optimism. But today it was just TOO MUCH.
Thanks for creating a space where I could put this all in writing without burdening anyone :)