Yes, I know I look like I'm superwoman.
I'm mentally exhausted. I had a plan. Make ART. Write. The rest will come. My mind is a tumble. I've even cut slack. It didn't work. My mind wants to stay in 'planning' mode. 'Thinking' is deadly to the spirit. I want to BE.
I'd rather be angry than tired. Evenings are the worst, tired & sad.
I have to win back my home, in so many ways. I have to afford to stay here, live on. I must show the bank I am able to do that. I have to reorganize and establish me as owner.
My mind is a jumble and I know what I want. I am afraid. I have anger under the surface. The sadness is stronger. The lack of trust is even worse. I hate that I am still being tested. I love my home, I loved Rich, I want to continue our plan.
I want to boil my desire to the essence, my core. My art, my physicality. My home. My dream. I want to stay angry enough to push through the learning and forgiveness, the caring and disappointment.
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