Afflicted

"The prevailing attunement is at any given time the condition of our openness for perceiving and dealing with what we encounter; the pitch at which our existence is vibrating. What we call moods, feelings, affects, emotions, and states are the concrete modes in which the possibilities for being open are fulfilled. They are at the same time the modes in which this perceptive openness can be narrowed, distorted, or closed off." - Medard Boss



I can't shake the badness. I'm wallowing knee-deep in my own misery and I just can't shake it. Maybe I'm just hormonal. Maybe my biorhythms are off. Maybe it is just that I'm pissed off at being overworked and underpaid (substantially). Maybe it's that I'm super stressed about this house and this move - the financial implications, moving my children to new schools, having to relearn a neighborhood, and the simultaneous blessing and curse of having my parents nearby. Maybe the overwhelming apathy I feel is due to the fact that I'm overwhelmed - with all of it. Maybe I feel guilty for forcing my ex-husband into moving too. Maybe I'm genuinely saddened at the thought of leaving the coworkers and doctors that I genuinely love. Maybe it's a combination of all of those things.

The facts, however, remain the facts. I'm temporarily forced into a state of inertia. I can't change jobs until my son's school year is complete. I can't begin to move utilities, belongings or myself until the house is complete. I cannot plan (devestating for a planner like me) for much of anything because I'm in a holding pattern. I've said it 100 times and it remains true - inactivity is a dangerous place for me. Perhaps that's why I've changed my hair color three times in three weeks.

Once the changes begin, the momentum will propel me forward at lightning speed - until then, there's only ever been one way for me to channel this sort of energy - and so I run, and run, and run. Mile after mile after mile. Until every inch of my body is screaming, until my lungs burn.

At the moment, I'm so sore I can barely walk and I'm headed for a super hot Epsom Salt bath. The truth is that I love the pain - it reminds me that my body was designed to be used and in some instances, even abused. It reminds me that despite the stillness outside and the torrents inside, I'm very much alive.