I’ve had a cough, though no cold to go with it, so spent a lot of yesterday sleeping. Then I still slept all night.
Not sure what I want to say. I took some cough medicine which has made me feel a bit wired, so now I can’t sleep.
We are to get snow tomorrow. Yippee. Not.
I tend to write Ron emails when I’m anxious, I’ve realized. Not so much when depressed. I can’t imagine writing will help me when I’m depressed, it’s just too much trouble, and anyway, there are not a lot of words. When I’m anxious, I’m full of fears, my mind is super active and there’s lots to write about.
About a week ago, I wrote after a dance class. That I’d apologized about twenty times, for bad steps, wrong moves, etc etc. As if my very being was wrong.
I wrote a bunch of other things, but Ron responded to that one phrase. That feelings as if my being is wrong is close to the core or my struggle, and that it’s a tortuous way to live.
That really struck me as true.
I often do feel that. As if I’m the wrong shape, the wrong person in the wrong place. As if everything I feel or say is not the right acceptable thing to feel or say. The way I look is bad.
Oddly, it’s been helpful lately to remember that. To counteract it, of course. To catch myself – oh yeah, I feel like my being is wrong. To give myself a chance to let my being be OK at that moment.