It’s 10:47am.

I took the word “should” out of my vocabulary about 6 months ago, and fram, it’s a game changer. That being said, I had scheduled school for right now. (My kids are homeschooled, for clarity.) And clearly, not doing school. Writing. Writing for sanity. Writing for breath. Writing to avoid burnout because if I just push through it I think I might actually go insane.

Today did not start the best. I had to have stern words with an insurance adjuster, my partner was cranky this morning because he also had to deal with shitty car stuff, the depression is thick, the groceries do not magically make themselves into meals like they ought, the headache is real, and the allergies are brutal. Add in a 5 year old and a 7 year old who have the *audacity* to ask me to get them the switch before I have gotten halfway through my dirty Rasa because, “but I just woke up” and today feels completely undoable.

Days like today, balance doesn’t seem possible. I have no idea how I’m supposed to honor my body and my emotions and my brain being low on the good chemicals with the fact that life has to go on and my kids need to learn and completely disconnecting so I can go on a stress cleaning binge just isn’t optimal parenting.

And how do you reason with a brain attempting to sabotage you? If I consider writing today off and focusing on mental health and parenting my brain comes at me with “Didn’t we just have a weekend? What did you do then?” And like, fuck you, brain. We cleaned the house, did errands, grocery shopped, made 3 meals a day, and budgeted. Just because we didn’t do school does not make it a day off, ffs. And if I consider pushing through to at least get school done, my brain goes off in the other direction. “Well, that’s not a good thing to teach the kids, is it? Just ignore your mental health and push through, kids. Checking tasks off the list is what matters, not health.” Again, fuck you, brain.

Instead, of doing either of those things, because my immediate responses to all kinds of stress tend to be binary, I sat down and wrote. The kids went to play outside because even my brain cannot find a fault with delaying the start of school by an hour or so while the kids enjoy the very last of the decent weather before Texan summer comes in to roast their little bodies and force them indoors for months on end.

Take a deep breath. And as my fight or flight response calmed, I remembered that I don’t have to write the whole day off to honor my emotions. I can take a break. I can adjust. I have the time. And I don’t have to just ignore them either. I can adjust. Doing school after lunch is not going to waste the whole day. Taking a few minutes, even a few hours, to plan in order to soothe nerves, to cuddle to calm emotions and try – just try – to both honor and continue moving – is doable. Today might go completely off the rails, no matter how I adjust. It’s life. With kids. Completely off the rails happens more often than I would like. But it’s not the end of the world.

So I’m going to breathe, hydrate, make a few lists, and make some lunch. Then, I’m going to try again.

Come to me RPG Avatar

I don’t want to be here, banging my head against writer’s block that is 3/4 stress induced and 1/4 imposter syndrome determined to be heard. I want to be losing myself in a farming RPG, a grand adventure, or quietly exploring a world like the mystical witch that I am. Basically, I’d love for some escapism at the moment.

Gaaaaaah why is it that I love grinding in games so much more than real life?

What I find interesting about my deep (and, at times of high stress, desperate) need for escapism is this: upon inspection its actually a really insightful road map for who I want to be and what I need to be working toward.

Herbalism, permaculture, spiritualism, and FFS a colder goddamn climate so I can enjoy being in nature. I am a witch of the woods not a goddess with stank pits, boob sweat, and active bitch face. Do you know how good I look with a cute pink nose? It’s a helluva improvement from flushed face with an ash white upper lip and eyes glazed with heat exhaustion. Gimmie some mittens and a proper pair of boots. And let. the bugs. die.

Maybe that’s the key – sit for a moment, and escape. Go somewhere that is not overwhelming, and open my arms wide. Take a deep breath, hug everything I see, and bring it back with me.