Leaping backward
So, if the whole deal with leap year is that we get an extra day, why do I feel weeks and months behind at all times? That's clearly much more about me than it is about the calendar.
Wondering at what point instability is such a constant that it doesn't even make sense to think of it as instability anymore. It feels as if I've been struggling to find my footing on nearly every level for well over a year, which perhaps means this constantly unstable, unsettled feeling is actually my new normal. Not something I want to accept, but I'm not sure how much is in my power to change.
And it's the instability that's the real mess-maker here, the thing that makes me feel jangled inside even when there's no presenting pressure (like now). When I'm not even sure what I'm shooting for/at, it's pretty hard to hit my mark.
All I can do is what I can do-the tiny, seemingly inconsequential things like writing this journal entry because I still remember the feeling of getting things sorted by writing. Not sure how well it works anymore, which may be the channel (is hanging onto LiveJournal adding dead weight?), a lack of rhythm (the days begin with a rush to work, regardless of the time, and end with weariness), or the simple fact that life just doesn't work the way it used to.
But even writing this helps me feel a bit better, even if it's the equivalent of desperately jamming a climbing piton into a sheer rock face-you hope it works because something has to, but you don't know how much weight you can really put on it.
Wondering at what point instability is such a constant that it doesn't even make sense to think of it as instability anymore. It feels as if I've been struggling to find my footing on nearly every level for well over a year, which perhaps means this constantly unstable, unsettled feeling is actually my new normal. Not something I want to accept, but I'm not sure how much is in my power to change.
And it's the instability that's the real mess-maker here, the thing that makes me feel jangled inside even when there's no presenting pressure (like now). When I'm not even sure what I'm shooting for/at, it's pretty hard to hit my mark.
All I can do is what I can do-the tiny, seemingly inconsequential things like writing this journal entry because I still remember the feeling of getting things sorted by writing. Not sure how well it works anymore, which may be the channel (is hanging onto LiveJournal adding dead weight?), a lack of rhythm (the days begin with a rush to work, regardless of the time, and end with weariness), or the simple fact that life just doesn't work the way it used to.
But even writing this helps me feel a bit better, even if it's the equivalent of desperately jamming a climbing piton into a sheer rock face-you hope it works because something has to, but you don't know how much weight you can really put on it.