That's what I feel like today. A fragile soul.
I love the city, but I prefer the quiet life, too. I love living in the mountains, where there are cows and horses and rivers on every corner, and you can drive for dozens of miles without seeing a traffic light.
But I love to party with my friends, hanging out and talking and laughing and cracking jokes and swapping stories about crazy shit that happens in our lives.
I'm crazy about animal print anything. I found the sweetest cashmere leopard print sweater at the thrift shop last weekend, and I've just been rocking it. I love my leopard print Bead On It boards, too. And my cowboy boots with the super-pointy toes.
I'm outgoing...on the outside. Does that make any sense? But there's always this little part of me that knows I'll eventually need to retreat, to recharge.
I tried to go into town today to treat myself to a Starbucks, but the stress of, oh, I dunno, everything, just got to me, and I felt this knot in my stomach. Like someone was turning a knife in there. And I knew - I just KNEW - that if I didn't turn around and head back home, I was going to throw up right there in the car.
So, I turned around and went home. And sure enough, after I had gone maybe five or six miles, the pain eased, and I started to relax.
And the entire way home, all I could think was, what the fuck? Is it working from home that's doing this to me? Have I not been careful enough with myself? Have I let myself worry too much about things without taking action to resolve them? Am I going to, ultimately, end up like my mother, who never left the fucking house for more than an hour at a time because it was too stressful for her?
Everything finally just came pouring out, pouring over me, and I just started to cry. I don't let people see me cry most of the time, lately. Not even Tom. I mostly do it in private, mostly in the car when I'm driving and I can't stop my thoughts from overwhelming me.
And then I wondered, is it just me, or is everybody like this? Do we all just put on these brave faces and walk around like nothing's wrong when we're really all just falling apart completely inside?
And what the hell does any of this have to do with my beadwork?
All I know now is that there was a glorious sunset in the mountains across the river valley tonight, and now that my stomach has calmed down, I'm going to eat a nourishing dinner, listen to some music, do some work while Colden plays with his toy airplanes, and then treat myself to a long, hot, lavender bubble bath.
I have a lot to do before Saturday.