...voices from the underground...

 

So, I found a boulder and hid under it.  I like it under here.  It's a nice boulder.  I have even been fortifying my boulder.  It's a safe boulder. 

It's also a lonely boulder.

This happens every once and a while around here.  Basically everything gets too intense for me to consciously handle, so I put my head down and press forward in survival mode.  My walls go up.  I shut out everything slash everyone that doesn't require me to be present; that doesn't require depth.  I stick around for my husband and my child, but I'm afraid everything else is put on pause.  It doesn't mean I don't love those I'm not talking to, or that I don't love what I'm not doing.  There are just pieces I need to put together before coming out from under my boulder. 

Oh I come up for air every now and again, and hanging out under my boulder doesn't mean I hate my life.  It's the opposite.  I know that I need to focus on the most important, the most cellular parts of my life and distractions are something my poor mind can't tolerate.  If you know me this is something that shouldn't surprise you.  Too much stimuli causes me to retreat.  I need alone time daily to recharge, to think, to asses and reassess and plan.  I need time daily to breathe. 

Naturally, blogging goes first.  If I can't even boil a pot of water without freaking out (this has happened, talk to me later) then writing is out of the question.  Writing isn't something that I am naturally good at.  It has taken time, practice, and practice.  Sometimes I get super lucky and I can sit down and puke out something spectacular.  However, this is rare, and my posts can spend weeks as drafts.  Aside from blogging, I've limited my facebook and instagram viewing.  I am so attached to technology, to social media, it's actually embarrassing.  In fact, I still can't bring myself to turn off my phone at night.  Even more embarrassing, I can't even put it on the dresser across the room.  I blame this on pinterest.  I also blame this on my ocd and anxiety. Friends, struggling with both of these disorders is basically throwing a match into a room full of explosives and yelling, 'have fun!' right before everything explodes. (oh, and it always explodes) What if something happens to my family slash friends slash who knows and a call comes in at three in the am and I don't answer?!  Yes, this thought goes through my brain every. single. night.  Along with so many others...truly it's a wonder I sleep at all.  Luckily I have an amazing husband and amazing friends who have been praying fervently that I'll start sleeping.  I was going days without more than a hour or two of sleep at night.  Me on day three of no sleep is like me right after a surgery.  Except when it's me sleep deprived I'm still walking around, using heavy machinery, and you know, ovens and faucets and stuff.  I totes still have all my fingers and toes.  Miracle. 

I'm slowly coming out from under my boulder.  It's probably safe to say I am basically bambi.  I'm skittish.  Slow to respond but quick to run away.  I've spent a lot of time rebuilding my walls and I fear they are stronger than ever.  It's mind blowing.  Sometimes when you are trying so hard to find yourself , you bury yourself. 

I won't be buried any longer.  It's time to feel the sun on my face.

amen god bless.