Everything dried up. Well, not everything, just me. Or maybe there was too much stagnation – led to rot. I dunno. I don’t really care either. So, I slammed on the brakes on my entire life and did nothing for a few months. I sat in quiet and tried to realise and re-prioritise. None of the old props worked and I found myself hitting brick walls as soon I tried to move in any direction. Maybe I stopped before crashing through a wall then built up the others around me. Again, I dunno, and don’t care either. It’s at the point now where all I want to do is start from scratch on this project and begin one or two new ones. So, that’s what I’m doing.
My ability to communicate hasn’t been as good as is normal for me. I can’t say I’ve felt too distressed by this, and have appreciated the time to turn inwards to work out what is important to me at this stage of my life. ‘This stage’ being at least partly connected to perimenopause. I find it much easier to become mentally vacant and struggle to maintain focus on a specific post. Since starting this one; I’ve played Uno, left the chair and gone outside to do some weeding, shopped online for books needed for an upcoming course, urinated at least three times, looked at today’s planned football matches (I don’t even like fucking football), checked the price of Bitcoin (twice), and made a chicken, salad, coleslaw on multi-grain flatbread lunch thing.
Further respite came in the form of a phone call from the school. My youngest had been hit in the face with a rock. Thankfully it doesn’t appear to be a malicious act but she’s got a scar-worthy gash on her cheek which means a trip to A&E. Apparently, she doesn’t care if she gets a scar, but she’s twelve, so I’ll get it seen to for the sake of her yet-to-be-twenty-one-year-old-self.