Of chaos, grace, rage and peace

It is 11:30. My achievement today so far?

Watering the garden.

I woke up with racing thoughts I had to run away from.
Saw a couple of funny blog posts and was made to giggle.
I had a simple list of things to do today: start re-reading the book I just finished translating (wahey! On schedule!) and then tidy and clean a little as my beloved sister is coming from Italy with her husband and son. Simple right?

I haven’t begun yet. I did water the garden, bury one small mouse and 1 baby mole my sleek black panther cat brought back, and read a lot of blogs, with immense pleasure and huge guilt. I saw a gift for me, and had to stop my mind from flying into all sorts of thoughts, and crying, and decided to be happy about it and stop it right there, not letting thoughts and feelings progress any further because I know where that road leads.

Tomorrow is the day my sister arrives, but it is also the day I go to the GP and then become able to resume my repeat prescription of betablockers. I am so looking forward to it because doing without them has been difficult.

My friend thanked me for sending her my horribly unchecked, unread and unedited book to keep her from getting bored to death. I was touched, she seemed to actually like it. I feel I need to write more. That book was the wishful part of me placed there, trying to escape from myself, trying to describe a future me I sometimes thought I could really be. Being forced to write all of it in one month helped me not give up. Now I feel I must write about my true life, slowly get to terms with it. Then again, how many hundreds of things have I said would be the time to start doing in the past 2 months alone?

I tire myself with myself beyond reason. I want to reach out with my hands into my brain and stop all those trains from zooming across it. I wish I could just chuck them all out and just keep one, and ride on it smiling and chugging away at just being on that one single train. The landscape changes of course but it’s always the same blooming train. That’s what I wish. Not all these trains zooming across and me hopping from one to the other like a lunatic. Look I’m happy! Look I’m productive! Oh shit I feel like shit! Oh my god my past my future my people my children myself Oh wow look at the flowers! Oh I am so serene I am Buddha I am wise Oh what the fuck when will these trains ever come to a station and bloody stop?

Ah but now I know they won’t. They won’t ever stop zooming across my head and though I wish very much I could just sit in a corner somewhere and watch them from the outside, passively, I know I can’t because my boys, my girl, my husband, my friends, my animals.

So I keep hopping and hopping and hopping but at least now, sometimes, I can slow them down, I can kind of try and get off one I don’t like or is not suitable and just sort of crawl onto another one, deliberately. That is my aim.

I have recently come to the conclusion, at just 43, that I will never hold down a conventional job. I have been working since I was 16, and I was unaware that I stood no chance of ever holding down a job. Or a country, a home, for that matter. I do believe moving around like a gypsy is what kept me sane, believe it or not. I kept trying to run faster than those trains and it worked for a while, then they’d catch up and I’d think of moving again.

So now I want to stay still for a while, and I’ve got to be careful. Not to let the friendly neighbours frighten me into wanting to move again. Not to find something that will tell me no no I can’t possibly stay here. I know I will stay because the place is wonderful and one child who is still small needs a little stability. The same child who…

… Yesterday she was asked to move her clothes from her room to ours to let the room free for our guests. My son helped transport them to my bed, and she was putting them away into the drawer. Then she said she was tired so I went to finish off. In near shock I saw she had arranged everything neatly, folding everything small and tidy and dividing types of clothes by drawers. I saw that and I saw what my idea of tidiness is (that stuff is in drawers) and I had to laugh. I am so glad – I thought – you are nowhere near like me. You stand a chance. Despite me! THAT will be my grandest achievement yet, may you reach the age of 18 relatively unscathed.

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