The morning after

I have the worst hangover. I feel just awful. No mind altering substances, just food. Food's clearly worse for me. Today I turn 42, that's really "in your 40s". But that's not it. I'm letting go. Letting go of dreams and hopes and plans and a future I thought was the right one.

Thing is? It turns out that it wasn't the right one. I thought I had an academic future, that when the kids were old enough I could go get my master's degree and think about a professional future. But I am taking a class. And while many, many people can do this. I cannot. There are not enough hours in the day to study and work and be a good mother. Not with my husband gone three of the last four weeks for work. Not with the kind of job that I have that eats time like the plant in Little Shop of Horrors. Not if I want my kids to grow up in a house that is not run by chaos.

The funny thing? The academic part isn't the problem. I'm not a traditional learner. I'd have done much better back when you learned your practice or your craft from a real person, over years yes, but by doing and modeling. Text books make me want to cry and research? Oh my god, it's horrible. But I can do it. And I don't even really hate it. But I hate being so pulled in so many directions all the time. And I cannot do it and be who I really am. So, I'm not going to. But it has a long term impact on what I'm going to do with my life. That means a different future. That's scary. That feels awful.

So, what do we do when we're scared and feel all alone in the world? Reach out to friends? Go for a walk in the woods? Write? NO! We eat Salt and Vinegar chips and chocolate and bread with butter. Of course!

Of course.

So today, I am on my knees, praying a big huge "please" prayer. "Please help me eat with love today, just today. Amen."

Amen.