change is in the air

2012 has been about change.

Moving on.

Letting go.

It's not easy. But, it's often inevitable.

In the next few weeks I'll be leaving two communities I've had such strong ties to for so long. Jack is graduating from 5th grade—we've been part of PS41 for 9 years. And Iz is graduating middle school. I've been PTA president there for almost 3.

People I've seen every morning will no longer be part of daily routine. In fact, my daily routines which have been set in stone for almost as long as I can remember will be over in 2 plus weeks.

Change.

I'm not embracing it. But I'm working hard not to be frozen by it.

For me that's a huge step.

going positive - day one

It's been a long time since I've written on a regular basis. There are many reasons for this.

Otherwise known as explanations.

Or excuses.

I'm thinking/feeling it's time to leave them in the past.

The challenge is that much of my blogging/writing has been angst-ridden. Venting. Emotional vomiting (a friend shared that term—pretty brilliant).

I don't want to do that anymore. While what I'm feeling may not be all that different than before, it's not what I want to put out in the world.

I'm going positive. And am hoping that writing it will help me be it.

Could be these posts will be exceedingly short. Incredibly challenging. Different than anything I've done.

But it's time to flow. To let my creative self back into circulation.

To go positive. One day at a time.

I'm committing to 40 days of this and then?

We shall see.

writing

This is the 4th post I've started tonight. I'm not as comfortable as I used to be spilling my guts and angst and emotional anorexia into cyberspace.

I've grown.

Or perhaps I've shut down.

I'm in a different place though and while I know I want to get back to writing I'm not sure what my door in will be.

Perhaps it's not blogging. Perhaps this go round it's actually working on a project. 

I haven't done that in so long. 

Flow came out almost 3 years ago and that experience changed me. For the better in some ways but not all. I was so burnt so abused so shut up so stifled I lost my voice and my drive to start something new. 

Maybe I lost it forever. 

Or maybe I'm just scared. Scared that there's nothing there. 

I know that's not true. I have plenty of good ideas to work on. But nothing that's driving me. 

Maybe that's the difference this time. I have to make it happen from a different place. A saner place a calmer, more rational place. Flow was a nightmare in so many ways and I'm thinking perhaps the fear of repeating that experience has kept the door locked.

It doesn't have to be that way again. 

Right?

Right. 

I'm making a commitment to myself to write every day for 40 days. Doesn't have to be blogging. Could be writing, working, conceptualizing, researching. 

Creating. 

Maybe all this angst will disappear when I let myself flow again.

Baby steps.

One day at a time.

Here I go.

life with one kidney

Life with one kidney has been remarkably like life with 2 kidneys. After recovering from the surgery I haven't noticed any difference. I feel the same. Except for scars I look the same. I ride my bike just as far, practice yoga just as much, no difference in my appetite or sleep. I don't crave anything new, feel anything new—all's generally been status quo.

Until last week. When I got sick.

A week ago today a fever started that lasted for days. All I could do was crash in bed for hours at a time, too exhausted to move unless I absolutely had to. The first day my head felt like it was crushing in on itself, pounding, roaring. I drank water until my insides were swimming along with endless cups of ginger tea. By Wednesday night, I started taking antibiotics, something I'm loathe to do (my dread of medicine is a post for another day). It seemed as if a sinus infection, something I'm prone to, had snuck in and taken hold. By Thursday the fever basically broke. But something else set in. Profound, earth-shaking, soul-destroying, life-challenging anxiety.

The meds messed with my digestive system, something that normally doesn't happen. I lost my appetite. Couldn't keep food in. Spent hours in the bathroom with monstrous cramps.

Add to that, my period was late. Not that late but things seem to be shifting and my normally clock like schedule isn't so automatic anymore.

This has been me for days. Barely holding on. Desperately trying not to fall apart. Afraid I won't be ok.

I'm having a really hard time.

I realized, during a few moments today of not being on this very thin edge, that on some level I've been scared about getting sick. Would my body handle things with just one kidney? Not only that, I'm sure it's been deep inside my insides too. Surgery wasn't that long ago. My body is still learning and growing and adjusting. For a couple of hours today the anxiety stopped and I was me again. Nervous but ok.

That's gone.

I know it'll be back.

But I'm terrified it won't happen soon.

shaky ground

I'm not in a great place right now. Too many things feel shaky under my feet. Too many unknowns. Too many question marks. Too many situations out of my control.

There's still a mouse in my house. I've gone from being a person who stands screaming on a chair to someone who's been co-habitating with one medium grey mouse (or mice, who knows) for weeks now. I saw one climb through the vent in my stove 2 nights ago. Trust me, no one should ever have to see that. It's hard to cook. It's hard to even go into the kitchen at this point. I'm trying to stay calm about it all, but it's fraying my edges more than a bit. Anxious to be in my house.

I've been sick all week. Fever sick. So tired I've spent much of the past 3 days lying on top of my blankets, half awake, half out of it, waiting for the pressure in my head to subside, worried about all the terrible medical disasters in my future. Anxious about what's wrong.

Middle and high school stuff is moving back to the forefront. Big tests in a week. First results in a month. The tension is starting to bubble below the surface. These are potential ego-bruising, crushes for my kids and there's nothing I can do to protect them or make it better or soften blows. Watching the people you love most in the world hurt and not be able to take it away is a pain I never knew could be so overwhelming. Anxious for what might be.

We're supposed to start splitting the kid's room next month only every single step of the process has been fraught with ineptitude, miscommunication and misinformation. And should the pieces fall into place it means a huge construction project, a vast amount of work and a bigger mess than I've ever had to contend with. Anxious for not knowing what's happening.

I haven't been to yoga since last weekend. Too sore. Too tired. Too sick. But I miss the space and the breathing and the routine. Anxious without my soul's home.

I don't know if tomorrow's going to be any better. I'm floating in this grey mist without much to hold onto and nothing concrete in sight.

I hate this place. But I guess it's part of the journey.

writing: day 3

Instead of writing here, about my fever and being overcome with mucous at the moment, I'm working on a Huffington Post piece about teen pregnancy and how disappointing/shocking it is at this point in history that girls are so clueless about how their bodies work.

All I can say is my children won't be.

not an auspicious beginning

I've been feeling tired for a couple of days. Achy. Out of breath after climbing up the very long flights of stairs to yoga. Took a 2 hour nap on Saturday and yesterday was so exhausted it was hard to move.

Took a yoga class anyone and felt/feel aches and pains in my legs I've never felt before.

In spite of being profoundly tired last night I couldn't sleep. I don't think it was the Giants win in the championship game—the reason other people in my house were wide awake. I was on the verge of coughing all night, my head throbbed, not in a headache way but in a skull too tight around my brain way.

And this morning it was hard to move. I managed, not sure how, to take Jack shopping at 8 for a Giants conference champions t-shirt and hat. Got him to school.

Got back in bed. 3 hours later I woke up with 100.7.

I thankfully don't get sick often because with illness comes anxiety that something terrible is wrong. It makes it hard to relax and heal when horrific scenarios dance easily through my head.

Nice though that it's Monday and I'm alone until 3. But as day 2 of my commitment to write, I'm left with very little energy to craft anything.

Back to bed.

Hope tomorrow's better.

Hey, hope this afternoon's better.