It’s been a long time since I last sat down to write something personal here. I don’t even know where to start.
I get to spend Christmas alone this year. I’ve now been 24 hours with no human contact. I need the down time. But I’m also missing my loved ones. It is very strange to spend holidays alone. I’ve always woken up Christmas morning to a rush of children and presents and cooking. And this year I will wake up to a silent empty house.
I got home from school yesterday and washed a weeks worth of dishes and ate and zoned out and then slept nearly 12 hours. And all I’ve done today is a few chores and a whole lot of just chillin’. I need it. In 17 weeks I made straight A’s in 21 credit hours while raising 2 kids alone in a new city and having massive dental work done. No wonder I’m exhausted.
I’ve done nothing to prepare for Christmas. No shopping. No decorating. Nothing. I’ll probably go to church. Maybe. If the roads are good and I wake up in time and have the emotional energy to see a bunch of happy, together families. Or maybe I’ll stay home and eat Eggos and cry. Who knows.
It’s a strange thing to think that little pieces of my heart are scattered to the far corners of the globe. All my most-loved humans are thousands of miles away. This kids went to Florida with their Dad. And, well, the rest I don’t know what to say or how to say it. Maybe this is why I post old poems and little else. I just don’t know. Part of my heart is very far away and pretty beat up right now.
So I get to just chill and chill some more for another week and a half. I need it. I need the time to rest, to pray, to meditate, to clean my house and take little walks around the neighborhood and have coffee with my friends and write just because I like to write and not because it’s going to be graded or desperately needs said.
There’s so much that needs said in this world right now. But really all I can say is that it’s not OK, and I know it’s not OK and it’s OK not to be OK in a world that’s not OK. So often I’ve sat down to write a post and ended up suffocating on my own words or just couldn’t actually hit the publish button. There’s so much to say that I can say nothing.
But I’m here, I’m alive, I’m clean and sober. I’m rapidly approaching another half-birthday cleaniversary. It’s hard to believe so much time has passed. Hopefully I’ll be graduating with two degrees in only a few more months. It’s been a tough transition, this business of going back to school and packing up my kids and moving 200 miles and keeping it all together. I’ll probably sleep another 12 hours tonight.
I have another whole notebook of poetry I want to type up while I’m on break. Just because I can’t seem to write here doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. So maybe in a few months you’ll get to start seeing the weird places my heart’s been the last months. Far, far from here and even further from home.
I’m not sure home is still home. This is now more home. I brought home a new potted plant a few weeks ago. Roots. I have roots here, now, too. I like it here. I love the new friends I make, the new places, the room to grow. I miss “home,” and the old-familiar and all. But my wings were starting to grow misshapen from the confines. It’s good to stretch, to be stretched.