Assume the fetal position.
We are safe here, for now. We feel safe.
My house is warm and small and neat and comfortable. My washing dries in the wind and sun. Potted colour blooms in my garden.
Cakes cook. I sleep, deeply, and my dreams are harmless. I have support, enough (it’s never enough…), just enough to get by.
And I am scared. And that’s OK.
Because I’ve run, and I’ve run, for months now. I’ve been so strong and brave. Now the bits are in place enough, just enough, for me to assume the fetal position.
My soul is so exhausted. It just needs to rest for a while, now we’re safe.
So things are terrifying. Taking my children to swimming lessons, new people, a new place? It makes me sick to my stomach with terror. Visiting the post office is an exercise in self esteem, in being strong,in keeping a stiff upper lip, when their is a three year old throwing one of his irrepressible tantrums.
The thought of making friends down here, of making small talk… it’s simply too frightening to comprehend.
I hate it. I miss the Lori that was so social. But I just cannot form connections, form friendships and play social niceties with people right now.
It’s just too damn difficult.
And I don’t think it matters. I’m doing any damage. If this is how I need to heal.. then, I guess, so be it.
Ugh…. Blogger is playing up. Comments not working. No fun at all. Sorry about that, jellybeans, it should be back to normal soon.