It’s interesting that, while nothing is happening, I have things to say. Hmmph. What does that tell you? The ravings of an idle mind? Perhaps.
I have to say that after two weeks of semi-solitary confinement, I’m about due for a breakdown. Why is this so hard? I’m very comfortable being alone. I love my house. I have a wonderful husband and very cuddly four-legged friends. So what’s the deal?
One friend suggested that it is a loss of control over just about everything that leads to this sense of abject powerlessness. Ok, I can hear you all chuckling — what, Donna? A control freak? Ha! It may, however, be true.
For example, the last thing I felt I had some control over was my teaching. However, now that everything has changed, I find myself once again stumbling around trying to figure everything out. You would think I would be used to starting over again after how much I’ve had to do it over the years. Why is this so different?
Age, perhaps. Lack of outlets for my frustrations, perhaps. Anxiety about the future, yeah that one for sure. Concern about those I love, positively. But it isn’t like I’ve ever had control over these things. Right? But now there are new terrors in the dark nights, new dragons to slay, new and unseen enemies to conquer.
Will I survive? Oh, no doubt. My fears have never been about ultimate survival; rather it is the “going through” that draws battle lines in my heart and soul, the “getting by” that leaves the scars. Though there is little space left for new pain to carve in this old warrior. But it will have to be enough.
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