Question Mark

That is the shape of my body, right now.

Somehow, I've managed to push my head forward, pull my shoulders in, and lean into the balls of my feet so much this week, that when I roll out of bed in the morning I look like question mark.  It's like my body is trying to curl up to protect itself.  Like I'm doing fetal position with such intensity in my sleep that my limbs and spine resist any waking corrective movement.

And, my face?  Well, I'm not going to pretend that those creases between my eyebrows are ever going to go away.  I'm all about aging gracefully, but c'mon, now.  I looked at myself in the mirror last night and, having not plucked or waxed in WAY too long....  Well, I look a bit like a sepia tinged photo negative of Yosemite Sam.  You know, if Yosemite Sam were being used to illustrate an elementary punctuation activity.

My eyes and my face and my body are asking, "Why did this happen?", even though I know the answer.

I was so angry, last night.  Angry at myself for not being able to get all my stuff done.  Angry for feeling so tired and sick and sad.  Angry at the kids for not being quieter.  Angry at my husband for not being able to read my mind.  I stood in the front room and shouted nonsense, shouted because it was late and supper wasn't ready and I didn't want to cook it and I had just. fucking. caught. my. limit.  I should be stronger than this, right?  I should be able to be as kind and respectful to my family as I am to my extra kids and clients, right?

Yeah, right.

Anyway, I need to go for a run today.  I need to do a full 90 minute vinyasa session.  I need to hang out with my kids and get their school shopping done and just be the four of us playing outside in the sunshine....

It's okay to be drawn back down into the dark.  We're human.  We go there to heal.  It is not okay to stay there, not for me.  This life is for living.

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