It's been a month.
Nothing bad has happened. Everyone I love is fine. Everything at work is fine. My home is coming together. I'm getting some traction on my writing course. But I feel an intense pressure like I'm suffocating, or on the verge of suffocating, or have just suffocated. I've felt this before and can manage it, probably. But it's been a hot minute since it's been this... Stormy.
Speaking of. The weather arrived today. It's been so sunny and warm for the last few weeks. Whenever IT felt too much, I've been stalking off, away from my desk, to sit in my wild garden, letting the sun warm my grey, tired skin.
Now the rain has come and I get to bask in the gladness that comes with knowing that I don't have to leave my house in the rain. And if I do leave, I get to come back to a cosy blanket fort and dry off.
The cost blanket fort has been a necessity for over a year now. It's the safest place to be. No phones are allowed in the blanket fort. No judgements. Or future thinking. Or past thoughts. It's been an essential part of my survival.
Whenever that feeling comes up it's imperative that I get in the blanket fort.
Walks have been good. The abandoned canal at the bottom of the lane is an awesome source of inspiration. It's a breeding ground for birds and has a few bird hides for watching the birds being birds. It's peaceful. There are trees. No screens.
So, I guess that's all I have for now. A little melancholy, I'm afraid, but there are the times I suppose.