I have a sore throat. A borderline on tonsillitis sore throat. My sinuses are stuffed. I got behind in my schedule so I have no decent posts in draft to finish and send. I just about cried about putting dinner in the Thermomix and turning it on. I made Hubby, under the threat of death or flu, clean out the fridge before putting the groceries in. I have pressure. In my brain type parts.
And then I downloaded the Portia de Rossi book Unbearable Lightness and the pressure builds. The voice, the way it exists is too much for me. I feel overwhelmed. Damaged and sad. I want her to win. I know that she did. In a lot of ways. Or it looks like she did. Looks can be deceiving. And eating disorders are a bitch. It’s beautiful though, in its way. Haunting. I’m compelled to finish it and run screaming from it all at the same time. Maybe I’ll try again when I feel better.
It’s been a big week here. My brother and his wife welcomed their second child, the gorgeous Declan {brother for Arleigh} into the world on Wednesday. A friend across the world welcome her son. He, while being a big, bouncing baby boy just like my nephew, is fighting for his life. So we send intention and light for him to fight the fight and win. Another friend welcomed a boy, who is the result of 7 years of trying and multiple miscarriages. It’s been a ride, this week has been. One of elation, of fear and of hope. And of pressure.
There is a lot for me to say that I’m not saying. I think that’s why I’m sick. My body, my energy need to be rid of it somehow and is pushing it out. Forcing it from my pores {and nose too, if I can be so graphic}. I’m glad it does. I don’t want it. I am numb to it. I see it written on his face sometimes and I wonder when he’ll go numb too. And if it will ever numb us both to the point where we are numbed to each other. I know I’ll fight for us and that it’s a fight that’s not on our door just yet. I’m grateful for that.
At the moment, there is this pressure in my head. Pressure from sinus, pressure to perform, pressure to be something that I’m not sure how to be right now. I questioned my need to write this post. To put this struggle on the screen. But finally conceded because you would have noticed already. Or would have soon. You see it is difficult to write of your life, yourself when you are waging a battle between versions of yourself.
So I wrote. And now, I will sleep.
