I am back at the library. My computer situation is in a state of limbo, and I don't have enough energy to address it in a "get this sorted out" sort of way. Plus my daughter loves spending time at the library, so our time here is a miraculous solution to our opposing introverted and extraverted ways.
I have nine minutes of computer time left. Computers shut down 15 minutes before the library closes.
My brain is a scattered mess, and the usual fixes or balms are yoga and writing. I have been doing neither. Not even journaling. This is not good for my well-being.
Two friends said as much yesterday as my poor, frazzled, weary brain took my body through a wave of panic attacks.
So I'm here chronicling this low point. One of the friends commented how funny it was that I recently finished an entire series on self-care.
"I've been doing other forms of self-care," I suggested.
"Yes, but not the kinds that do you the most good when you're in this state," she countered.
She's right. I know she is.
Before I started this post, I jotted down my ideas for next October's writing series. At least on that front, I'm ahead of schedule.
She believes that I am coming to the end of a particular season, and so my anxiety has gone into high gear. Oh please be right, I told her.
Either way, I've been here before. I have better coping skills now and have practiced them. This round is the advanced level, and I have to prove to myself that I'm up to the challenge. Yesterday I asked for help. I also worked on the things that were causing stress and today went better.
I am being evermore refined by the fire of life. I know I will manage.
Time to close and hit publish.
More thoughtful posts to come.