A horrid cold grips me as I wrestle with the next stage of my memoir. It’s been a rough combination—trudging over old ground to dance with the ‘ghosts of mindsets past’ and the physically depleting manifestation of illness.
Working with a foggy brain, I’m sluggish and frustrated. Even my self-harm voices, my more virulent strain of self-loathing, are getting stronger. I hoped they’d lost their sharp black teeth years ago, but no.
I crave a run. Movement is medicine; I know this. But my clogged sinuses think otherwise.
Instead, I drag my carcass out the door for a walk in the sunshine. Chirping birds are inaudible over the din in my mind. I cringe at the abuse of my warring selves — like screaming arguments overheard through the thin walls of a shitty apartment.
I walk briskly toward my favourite park, trying to outpace the ugliness of my mind.
The great oaks, elms and maples are my circle of wise women reaching their rough arms to embrace the sky. Their steady optimism recharges me. I need not explain myself to them. Somewhere under the trees, I forget my troubles. Their faithful presence resets me.
I breathe easier, drawing in the day’s untapped possibilities.
Returning home, I remind myself of my arsenal of antidotes: movement, sunshine, kind words in the mirror, vitamins, sleep, asking for help, meditation, being in community and taking in lots of greens.
Deploying them all is sometimes a necessary counter-offensive against self-doubt, exhaustion, and despair.
Perspective comes like the dawn.
I’m grateful for my Friday community of women: Terri, Katy, Diane, Regina and Cindy. Thank you for wrapping me in your arms today and every day.
Who are the people you reach out to when you need a boost?
Bless you Clark. I look to others for hope when I can't find it. I appreciate your acknowledgment so much. Have a lovely Sunday.
"I breathe easier, drawing in the day’s untapped possibilities." Wonderful, Linda, just wonderful.