Today I threw a full-blown tantrum because I could feel the need to nap, and I didn’t want to go down without a fight. This is not a happy, hopeful post. I was mostly in a funk all day. When I say that things are up and down, this post represents the down. If you’re not up to it, biggest hugs, skip it with my love. xo.
I do so much sleeping lately.
I know, I know– it is my body’s way of healing. I try to make space for that, but the bills are looming, the hip is aching, my body is plumping, and the projects are stacking up.
I’m not worried I’ll run out of food today. I’m worried I’ve run out of use in general, and how do you fill the pantries then?
I’ve always been a useful person and more than a fair share of my identity is wrapped into that. I type quickly and well. I read swiftly and deeply. I can write, in a variety of voices. I can be trusted. I have a memory like a lockbox, sturdy and private. I have a steady but seemingly boundless stream of energy. I can make designs, and websites. I can code. I can listen to long stories and sit with them. I can be the person who makes time to have coffee with their friends.
I mean, all that was true. None of it is true now.
A handful of clots did what 438 days of prison couldn’t, what widowhood didn’t, what post-incarcerated-life tried so hard to do.
They erased me.
And I know that isn’t true in the most literal sense. I’m sitting here, aren’t I? A full human body that loses charge faster than a busted cellphone. A full human body that tips to the right, that can’t stand up on its own.
A shell, I think it’s called.
A shell that checks out of life as much as the body before it reached for life.
Just take a nap, it says.
Just take a nap, everyone says.
A nap instead of living today, and a nap instead of tomorrow, and a nap instead of next year, and a nap instead of this next decade, and when will the pantry run out if that is all I do?
When will friends fall off if I keep missing the events that are shaping their still-full bodies?
When will this nap be the final one? The one where the tiny voice that is still me becomes tired of echoing through an empty place? Will I say goodbye to myself, then? Boom like the waves in a conch? Will I rest then, finally? Set myself in sand?
After all these mountains, will the ocean even take me back?
rarasaur 
❤️
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*Hugs*
I think this kind of post is necessary, thank you for sharing it with us 🙂
I want to say that you’re still you, whatever happens to you (like that ancient analogy with the crumpled and muddy bank notes still having the same value as the brand new crisp notes)…but I’m wondering if it’s more like ice, water and steam.. The same but different.
Also, my tantrums aren’t nearly as poetic as yours :p
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*hugs*
*more hugs*
*extra-large squooshy hugs*
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Turn the globe around and see the ocean is SO much bigger than the mountains. It gave birth to the mountains and it knows their folds, knows your struggle over them, and sends up its water in rain to cool you, snow to inspire you, and hail to wake you up. The ocean breathes life, even on the mountains. It will never forget you.
You have a galaxy down your throat, and no amount of naps will erase it. At the core of you, you are still you, and you shine. 💚💚💚
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Sorry you’re feeling this way, I know how you feel, in some ways. I also know that nothing could ever erase you, not for me, and I’m positive not for a lot of other people whose lives and hearts you’ve touched with your sparkly dino love. Hang in there dear friend, sending you love from Middle Earth: ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
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I found this very interesting blog thanks for sharingl
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There’s another XXXL squooshy hug coming from here … and also, I hear you. I also feel so desperate when day after day drifts by in reading, napping, sitting and staring … Each night I go to bed and hope and plan for tomorrow to be better, but so often it isn’t and I’m just tired. Does it help you to know why? Because it bugs the heck out of me to NOT know why I’m tired all the time! I have ideas about it – thank you, Dr. Google – but I don’t KNOW. Anyway, just wanted to say, I hear you. You’re not alone. And here’s another hug.
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I could travel to your day through your words though i understand it is nothing compared to how you feel… Just sending tons of hugs from this side of the world.. 💕💫❤️
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Thud.
And love.
And I’m glad you have this space to write the good as well as the bad.
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😦
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*hugs*
You’re so entitled to a nap, sweet Rara. I know you want to resist, because you’re afraid you will miss things. And perhaps you will miss a few things. But, a nap today *so that you will have a better tomorrow.* A nap is like an investment in your healing, in your future.
I promise you will not be erased. No one who has ever loved you would allow that to happen. And you will always be useful. That’s just who you are. You may be useful in different ways, but that’s okay.
For the record, you’re entitled to a tantrum, too. If anyone is, you are. So throw a glorious fit! Throw the fittiest fit that ever fitted!
And know you are loved. Despite it all, and through it all.
xoxox ❤
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Naps are vital. It’s OK to not do everything that’s available. You must rest. Sending another huge squooshy hug.
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We’re shells……….I can dig that,shells with a lot of sharp edges and broken pieces. If sleep does act like a lealer,I’m sure we would be in comas until it was time to leave this plane and I’m not even sure it still would heal what we have lost.
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I’m so glad I’m not the only one throwing tantrums.
Besides some times I just want to pretend I’m not broken and not take a nap and just because that turns me into an angry monster that falls asleep on the floor doesn’t mean I can’t exercise a bit of free will occasionally right?
Also I’m so glad that we grow out of being 3years old and even if we are forced to revisit our tantrum years it’s just a visit… because man. I have new sympathy for those kids!
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I get your nap metaphor all too well 💗 (especially fighting it). And it’s not really a metaphor…
I can’t imagine your magnetism could get erased by anything, even though all this and even through all this…
And maybe you just need the space to be as you are until you can see yourself in another way. Let me know if you want to coffee chat, I’m here – and if you can’t, that’s okay, too.
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I must have missed something. Well, probably a lot of things, but what happened?
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I can’t begin to image what you’ve been through. Your words help me understand. I remember feeling like you did here when I was fighting endometriosis and bipolar and feeling like a broken woman who couldn’t meet my own expectations of life and relationship. Your words hold a unique and beautiful perspective. I value every word. Your voice will never be without impact. You remind me to write. And to consider others perspectives when I teach or guide. And to be real because that’s all we can be. You remind me of the fragile thing called life, but also of resiliency and strength and the power of the human spirit. Just keep using your voice. It is truly priceless. Thank you for your realness.
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sometimes naps are the sand in which we must scribe our waking. the mediums change but use them, use them. nap to breathe. nap to dream. Nap to come awake again… 💙
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You seem pretty “woke” for a person who sleeps all day. A paradox, as the cross-eyed sailor said… 😊
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