Thank you and I’m sorry. By lately, I mean the last almost three years. They’ve been the hardest of my life. I am constantly on the verge of drowning, losing it, falling apart, etc. There really isn’t anything anyone can do to help me, except not expect anything of me. I apologize for the missed birthdays, for the lack of Christmas cards and even presents. I thank you sincerely for sending me thoughts and gifts. I feel truly awful I haven’t been able to get my act together to reciprocate. It isn’t b/c I don’t love you. It isn’t because I don’t want to send you an amazing thought out gift. I do want to do that, I do love you. I do want you to know I care, I remember.
To those who've met me lately - I swear I am not by nature a bitter or angry person. I don't like that about me right now either.
I am in constant anticipation of this period of my life coming to an end and getting to re-engage with the world. I am dying to have more left to give not just to you, but also to my family, my husband and kids. Survival has been the name of the game for a while now. Sometimes we get to thrive for a patch, but mostly I am hanging on by my fingernails praying nothing else gives and then it does.
I know that the circumstances that have created this season in life will most certainly come to an end - even though at this moment I find that hard to believe. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel, even if I can’t see it yet. I know the snow will melt, the flowers will bloom, and the sun will come up tomorrow.
The reason I haven’t been able to keep in touch is because when you ask me how I am, the only answer I can give is “fine” or “alive” or “making it”. And I don’t want to elaborate because honestly to explain to most people the most recent slap in the face from the universe would be more frustrating than its worth b/c it would still not leave you understanding why it sucks so badly. Also, to give you a full sense of where I am, I’d have to give you a short history, and honestly it would just sound like I’m whining or complaining or even making it up.
I can’t explain how I’m feeling without having to feel it. I can’t stay on the tightrope I am currently required to walk if I have to look down or around or anywhere but the next step in front of me or the far off distant future full of possibility. I feel my pain very acutely, but I can’t share it for fear it will consume me if I let it out of its little box.
I am attempting to bloom where I am planted. For now, I might be a bulb that doesn’t come up this year but I’m busy building deeper roots for the future, at least I hope.
