Wednesday, April 16, 2014

I need a break. (And a tractor to deal with all the problems…)


I know at least four of you are waiting for me to tell you all about our trip to the Juno awards, which happened, like, three weeks ago.  And every day I think of more stuff I'd like to share with the world, or at least the seven of you who are still reading!

But it just ain't happening, folks.

This winter insists on dragging along… we had a few decent days of above-freezing weather, the snow banks were kind enough to melt slowly and not cause catastrophic floods, which was nice and I was very grateful.  The layer of scum hung on for a little longer until we got a decent rain.  More gratitude for a decent rain as opposed to a battering.  The place just stunk the high heaven though.  I need to seriously deal with some s**t.  For real, and metaphorically.  Well, anyways, now there's an inch of snow on the ground again.  And it's cold.  All weekend I mentally added up the list of outdoor work needing to be done, then having a lie-down to recover from the exhaustion of just thinking about gravel on the lawn, garbage that blew around all winter, dog poop, everything that didn't get done last fall before the winter hit.  Now I'm secretly relieved to have the snow cover it up for another few days.

It's not totally about the weather though.  I'm wrestling with depression again this year.  Last year I was feeling exceptionally well this time of year, but not now.

You know what the big difference is?  I KNOW THIS ISN'T PERMANENT.

So I'm feeling wretched.  It is what it is.  It's what's happening right now.  I'll deal with it and I'll get over it.

I can get cleaned up and leave the house and put on a smile, and it's a real smile.  I can laugh and enjoy people.  It's exhausting though, and afterwards I need recovery time.  The worst part is when people ask those innocent questions:  How's it going?  How are you?  What's up these days?  

I don't lie.  I'll honestly say, the last few months have been a challenge.

I've figured something out though…

I need to be writing.

Not here.

Why wasn't I writing all winter, when I needed excuses to not be outside freezing my butt off?  My brain felt frozen.  I'd open this thing up and stare at it and feel kind of blank.  I've written something that's full of knots and I couldn't figure out how to untie them.  The harsh winter is over now, it's spring, the season most normal people associate with new life, and which I associate with scum and dirt and manure and unpredictable skies.  Difficulty.

You know what order I keep seeing? Things get worse before they get better.

I just need to take a few weeks off here… and untie some knots, rake up some dead grass, shuffle some words around, move some manure...


shadowlake2005 said...

Be well, Heidi, I'm glad you were able to see through to what you need. Look forward to hearing from you again, if not here than perhaps somewhere else.

Paul Tee said...

I will say it. I am disappointed. Not because I miss glimpses of rising/fading stars, I will miss the passion in your coverage. For me, you are the light I can see the event by, because it matters to you. Otherwise I wouldn't much care.
Primarily, it's good you know your limits and can set your priorities. Put yourself first, screw the rest--at least for a while.
This winter has been a bitch. Just when I think it's over, more snow is dumped on us. Then it melts and water and mud is everywhere. A sinkhole appears in my access road and I get a cold, filling it up in the rain. But do I dream of Cozumel? No, I write a scene setting myself on the beach in the warmth of a virtual sun, listening to the waves lapping onto shore of a silk smooth sands. And I feel better and can look outside to face the mud and think that as long as it's cold the bugs aren't around. Meanwhile, inside I am vacuuming the horde of ladybugs from my windows. Blessings to you.

Undercover Sandy Cove-r said...

Be in the moment, Heidi. I empathize and appreciate how much energy it takes. Snow is gone and new life is peering out the earth. One foot in front of the other, one day at a time. Trite, I know, but true.

jules said...

You go ahead and go Heidi. I'll be right here when you decide to come back. In the meantime, shovel some shit out of the barnyard AND your brain, and blessed be.

mugwump said...

I hear you Heidi.

mugwump said...
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Kimber said...

Take all the time you need. Your faithful readers are with you 100%! (including me)

This winter has been wretched for so many people, and you are not alone. I had a healthy one for a change, so it was weird for me to be feeling good when so many of my dear friends were clawing their way back to a happy place.

Get some sun on your face. Walk as much as you can. And you are absolutely right: the bad won't last. Hugs to you honey. Enjoy some writing time.

Heidi Willis said...

I hope you have some sun in the near future. I know what you mean about the winter that will not end, and then the ugly, messy, smelly mush that is left in its wake. Seriously, can we not just go straight into June??

I want you writing, too. Creating something. I hope you are able to do that. Just a little bit.