Clutter.

I'm having issues. I feel like I am moving in slow motion, like I'm submerged in jello. (Always wanted to try that, by the way). Lately...no, that's a lie. More than lately. For a long, long time, I have struggled with some things. I can't even put a finger on all of them. Self-esteem, organization, motivation, purpose, courage, priorities...to name a few. I sometimes live like there is no tomorrow, and other times I worry that I have no time left and that nothing means anything. Some days the wind is at my feet, and I am unstoppable. Some days, I don't want to get out of bed, because I feel I can't do the things I need to do. Some people are so good at keeping it all together, and I haven't been, and it's catching up with me. In everything...I feel like I have put so many things on the back burner that there's now a fire in the kitchen. Ethiopia. I can't even pretend I am doing enough. Today when I read that Haregewoin Tererra had passed away, I cried, of course in honor of all she has done, but also because I remembered reading There is No Me Without You. I read it and was absorbed and overpowered and knew that I would always, always feel that way. And I do, but the intensity of it has faded. I'm scared I am losing Ethiopia. Because I am lazy, and I can't help but to live this crazy, nonstop life I have created. I can't put the right things first.
Adam. Yep, even that sweet man has been affected. (Please, Mom, don't panic...we are fine). But there has been something missing, or maybe just faded, and the best news I can report is that we are totally aware of it, and instead of growing apart, we are catching each other, not falling, and not backing away. Like we promised we would. He will probably kill me for this much honesty. But I truly believe (think?) that it happens to all couples, and that hiding it only makes me a phony. (Or a normal, private type person...eh.) I really miss him when he is gone, and I know that he is doing it for us, and just...it's alot.
I have come to realize that I have been living with so much crap under my metaphorical rug, that I'm choking on it. I will feel great and in control and then realize that I'm actually going bonkers because the garage is disgusting and anyone who walks through it will think we are totally trashy. So, clean it, right? No, I don't. I just ignore the anxiety I feel every time I come home. Same with the car. Oh, wow. What a nightmare. I NEED to clean it, I NEED an oil change, I NEED to have the tires checked. These are normal, grown up things that for some reason, I like to ignore until they are taunting me, telling me what a loser I am. Every room in my house is full of junk that I don't need. Stuff that no one even touches or remembers. I will say that in a way, I do like a crowded room. I'm not a minimalist. But I don't need this much stuff. Toys, clothes, furniture, the effing chandelier that's still sitting in the foyer. That I didn't need.
It's more than just stuff, too. It's the anxiety I feel when I have a job coming up, or a bill collector calls my cell phone and I ignore it. The feeling that whatever I am doing is just not good enough, and why would I not just snap out of it, go on a frenzy and get this stuff done? The more I wait, the more it all builds and builds, until I can't even remember to send Charlie to school with a green toy for show and tell. I panic when I hear the date because OH CRAP did I have something to do today? Is someone waiting for me somewhere and I forgot?
And why, instead of doing the things I need to do to feel better, to make all of our lives happier, do I constantly escape into this freaking internet? I have no real reason to check my email, blog, facebook 100 times a day. The reason is that it's a distraction. From what's really going on. From the garage, the bills, the kids, the problems. My mind is cluttered. I'm so worried about everyone else that my own life suffers. What people think, what they are doing, who's going where, and should we go, too? If we cook out, I wonder who we can invite over? If we go to the park, I need someone to meet me there. Why is nothing ever enough for me? I can't seem to remember anything, I can't seem to really focus on the kids, or Adam, or the house. It's all just...surviving. And I am sick of it. I know this sounds like some pretty easy things to deal with...procrastination, lack of motivation, and a messy minivan. Who doesn't feel that way? But to me, all those things are on steroids. I sat outside today, looking out of that really gross garage, and thought....enough is enough. I am ready. To box up, to clean out, to photograph from my heart, to really PLAY with my kids, to make out with my husband, to rake the leaves, invent adventures, pay those hospital bills off, to broaden myself, my life, our life. I have everything I ever wanted. What's the point if your hiding inside your head all the time?
It's scary...but exciting, to think that I can make some kind of step to getting out of this place. I want to remember who I am, and like her. And be proud of the wife, mom, friend, sister, daughter, artist that I want to be.

Deep breath.