growing curious: today, i...

woke up from a horrific PTSD nightmare that was more realistic than symbolic.

got E into playclothes and settled on the bed so that she could watch cartoons while D continued to sleep.

took a shower and tried to shake away my anxiety.

emptied the dishwasher.

let the dog out and went out in the snow to get the paper.

made E's bed.

made eggs and toast (and bacon for them) for breakfast and had to coax them to the table.

cleaned up from breakfast.

changed bed linens and did laundry (ultimately five loads).

called my grieving cousin. no answer. left long message.

read the newspaper. handled some correspondence. tried to send supportive messages to a few people.

made granola.

prepared leftover miso soup and noodles for D and E. tried to coax them up for lunch.

cleaned up from lunch.

called a long-lost, overworked friend. no answer. left a long, encouraging message.

ordered E's birthday cake while she screamed at me from another room.

did another dishwasher load.

watched a robin sit on the fence for a long time and brought out a saucer of seed for it. later saw it pulling worms out of the dirt as soon as the snow had melted.

surveyed the pantry and began a long grocery list.

began making lentil soup because lentils are cheap and humble, and sometimes that's the right way to get back to health.

cut my finger badly. (kept blood from food, thankfully)

finished making lentil soup.

cleaned the messy kitchen.

did more laundry.

took a petulant child on a long walk during which we told one another birthday stories, picked up trash and talked about how to keep the earth healthy. tried to answer E's question: "What does the Earth do when it's hungry or needs to go poop?"

washed and dried big bowls and the cookie sheet from the granola.

did even more laundry.

fielded a call from my mother-in-law, who wanted to talk about her arthritic knee. was truly concerned and tried to be supportive.

am still thinking about the horrible dream and about how true it is on psychodynamic and structural levels. am truly freaked out.

am trying to type with big bandaid on my finger.

wonder if there's meaning to my life beyond what I do in this house or for my family.

feel isolated but tried hard today to reach out.

wonder if my dad will be going back to the hospital this week. two weeks seem to have escaped from my mother's awareness because she's been so preoccupied with his tenuous situation. she was shocked that next week will be the last week in January already. worried for them both.

feel overwhelmed about old wounds.

am tired of PTSD and the ongoing struggle to regain my health, self-esteem, and sense of hope.