I haven't been writing. For a million reasons, none of which can actually justify the lack of cathartic output from my overactive brain, I have not once sat down to make myself write.
I noticed this morning that I have been so keyed up by all the current events that I have no tolerance for anything. Hate, dishonesty, excuse making. Zero. None.
It's a combination of "what the actual fuck is wrong with this world?" and my own values becoming ever-more apparent to me.
I am an introvert and I've spent more time interacting with people face to face and online in this last month than I can handle. It's time for me to take a BIG step back into my blanket cave and take a deep breath. I'm afraid that if I don't I'm going to become even shorter with my words, less patient with the faults in those I love and, worst of all, lose sight of what makes me feel grateful every day.
I might hermit more than I usually do. Spend more time in bed with a book than I usually do. Say "no" more than I usually do. Set stronger boundaries than I usually do. Focus more on my own goals than I usually do. Ask for what I need better and more often than I usually do.
Here's your warning: I am unavailable for the month of February. Calendars all booked. I've got volunteer commitments. I've got personal deadlines. I've got play dates with Delilah. I've got a whole lot of me time planned and none of that includes expending time and energy on things and people that make me feel like I would rather be at home alone relishing the peace and quiet.
Selfish. Self-care. Whatever. I need some time alone before I lose my damn mind.