I wrote an entirely different post today. Six hundred words exactly. Six hundred true, accurate, factually-correct words about gratitude, silver-linings, and the first sixty days of my quarantine experience. And while it was all true, it just did not feel honest. I scratched it entirely, in favor of bearing my authentic heart.
The truth is, I barely recognize myself most days.
I seem to oscillate between extreme, caricatured versions of myself. On Monday I am the highly motivated work-from-home-mom who is taking her daughter on daily runs (wearing a mask and social distancing) and engaging in age-appropriate educational opportunities from the comfort of our home. I make a homemade, plant-based meal for dinner, and do a few hours of work before taking a bath, reading some chapters of a novel, and falling asleep at a reasonable hour.
The truth is, by Friday, noontime, I haven’t changed out of my pajamas. I am feeding my daughter cold pieces of cheese for lunch while the dogs lick her hands and she giggles. I am hysterical over a commercial I saw that morning and I feel like screaming at my husband for something that he hasn’t yet done wrong. I’m blasting Dashboard Confessional albums out the window and seriously considering starting happy-hour right after lunch.
The truth is, I’m lonely.
The truth is, if I have to spent one more minute on Zoom I might throw my computer off the roof.
The truth is, I miss being able to work from the co-working space I love so much, with that contagious buzz of vision and entrepreneurial energy all around me. The truth is, some days, even the few hours of work I get to squeeze in feels like an imposition.
The truth is that after church and brunch, I spent the rest of Mother’s Day on Sunday plopped unmoving on our sectional, with my husband refilling my champagne flute while I binge-watched the entire first season of “Little Fires Everywhere.” It was all I wanted.
The truth is, I feel overwhelming guilt and self-doubt almost every day. The truth is, my daughter learned how to say “I love you” last week, and it feels like the brightest beacon of success.
The truth is, I’ve fallen completely in love with yoga, and it’s making me feel so healthy. The truth is, my weekend drinking habits feel like a regression to senior year of college, and it’s making me feel so unhealthy (and hungover parenting is NO fun).
The truth is, I’m scared.
I’m scared of more months of living like this. But I’m scared of going back to “real life” too. I’m scared for the health of my loved ones of course, but I’m also scared of the transition back to such a routine-driven, rushed way of living. Weekends full of obligations. Morning and nights full of the frantic bustle of running a household. A full ten hours per day without my daughter. I don’t miss these things.
The truth is, I woke up at 4:30 AM yesterday in a full-blown panic attack and struggled with debilitating anxiety on and off throughout the whole day. There is nothing simple or easy about this time in our lives.
The truth is, it sucks. The truth is, it’s beautiful.
And here we are. Six hundred words of real, unedited honesty from my heart. The best we can do right now may change day to day, and even from moment to moment. The truth is, some days, I haven’t been sure how I would make it through. The truth is, a long hug from my husband always helps.
Sending you hugs, and hope.
CJK
*image credit unknown
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