Grey

I hate this time of year.  It’s grey and cold outside, my husband’s travel always seems to be more extensive and every bit of bad news seems to send me into a spiral.

I have three girlfriends whom I’d consider my closest friends (one from high school, one from college and one from life now). Of them, one lost her mother in November, another her father in December and the third has a father who is fighting pancreatic cancer.  With each text from my friend about her father’s battle, my heart breaks.  Each time I see a text notification, I fear the worst.  The news keeps coming and it’s not good.

All of the books I’m reading right now have themes of death.   I find them incredibly painful to read – as though some type of hyper-sensitivity switch within me has been flipped.  Big questions and big issues weigh heavily on me in ways they never did before and I long for the days when the biggest life stressor was whether or not we were going to renovate our house.

My mind is a jumble.  I’m anxious and restless.  The simplest things invoke waves of emotion.  I know it’s a phase – it’s stress, it’s bad news, it’s lack of sleep.  It’s a million different things all rolled into one big ball of bad and I feel myself barreling down the mountain with it.

Running helps.  Yoga helps.  Writing helps.  So, I’ll keep doing those.  I’ll focus on what I can control – on the great aspects of my life – and be grateful for those.  And hope for sun tomorrow.

 

 

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