Interrupted
My Life Thus Far
As Bad As It Seems
As I was going about my work, I had the momentary realization (a thought that came and went) that I haven't felt as good as I do in years. More years than I can recall. Mentally I'm in a good place, physically I'm in far less pain/discomfort, emotionally life is feeling controllable (though that is mostly an elusion. Nothing is truly under our control). Of course, this moment of clarity came after feelings of panic and dismay that I was yet again back at work, and I didn't feel like I'd make it to 10pm. But I did. As I always do. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems.
The outfit I wore today made me feel so confident about the changes my body has made. I say my body, because I haven't done too much to facilitate the changes I'm seeing. It's almost too good to be true. I work black yoga leggings and a dark navy satin top I got from Target on sale for $6. I paired it with knee high socks and wedge boots. Even a month ago I wouldn't have worn this outfit. The shirt was a high/low design (short in the front, slightly longer in the back), but not as long as a tunic or a dress as I'd usually wear with yoga leggings. Every chance I'd get, I'd sneak a glimpse of myself in a mirror. Not in a narcissistic way. But as confirmation that I actually did look nice and not tacky (I'd never think that of anyone else, but I'd think it of myself. Sad, I know). I'm harder on myself than anyone else could be.
We're going to get our Christmas tree tomorrow. I'm continuously torn between wanting to abandon all holiday celebrations (because they feel hollow and forced. Shoved down my throat by society's need to constantly consume worthless things none of us need), and wanting to continue our family traditions that we've created around these forced days of celebration. One of those traditions is going to Hubert's Tree Farm and finding the perfect tree. We've done it since Keenan was just a tiny baby (with the exception of the one year we lived in Port Angeles). This year dad is going with us. I want it to feel special, and yet I also want to stop all of it. No more tree, no more presents, no more retail work. I want to abandon all of it. Maybe when the kids are all gone. I'll continue it for them.
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