There’s a whole sunrise in that dewdrop. Worth dropping a whole load of water on my head wriggling into the bush to get the shot, right?
Definitely worth running to the beach, even if there wasn’t a whole lot going on over the sea. May have taken some artful shots of wet stones. We shall see.
And then eventually time to shower, because that was also my fastest run in a while, and recommence waiting for a call from school. Right after coffee. And maybe a quick wander through some more day 3 #theinstaretreat pics. (Loving the community Sara is building there )
Actually, there was washing to hang out and children to feed, and children to wrangle, and twiter to read, and anxiety building.
In the morning I wake up and the only thing on my mind is whether I can persuade myself out of the house, and whether there will be something worth taking pictures of when I get to the beach. And then I get back and there’s a few minutes with Big before she heads off to school and then today quite a lot of peace and quiet before the other children got up.
I should have used that time and peace to do stuff. But I didn’t. And partly because of that, and partly because of shouting, and mainly really because of me the anxiety starts to build and blossom and take over again.
I can banish it for a little while. I can squash it by breathing, by running, by staring at the sky, or a flower, or a bird. I can draw it into submission – art is very mindful or mindless, I’m not sure which. My hand works best when I get out of the way anyway.
But it never goes away for long, and avoiding stuff makes it worse, but I don’t know how to get the stuff under control. Don’t tell me little by little, that doesn’t work. And a huge dive in wears me out for days and puts me further behind. I’m over here paddling furiously under the water and it’s not working.
I don’t know how to do this. (Please don’t tell me how to do this. Just hear me.)