Hello out there to anyone still checking on this deserted page. I've run through I hundred ways to write an explanation in my head, and I still don't have any crafty words for you. Just the truth.
I haven't been feeling myself lately. I can't pinpoint an exact reason; nothing is wrong. The baby's cute as ever. House is beautiful. Husband, loving. For about two weeks I had an unpurposeful, painful, sinking feeling in my heart that I couldn't talk myself out of.
I avoid trying to explain this to anyone, because unless you've felt it, it sounds like what it is - crazy. Depression? Anxiety? Panic? I don't know. But it was definitely something heavy, and I couldn't stand it.
I could have sat and written some fairly dark-sided stuff, but I decided to just leave the page blank and do whatever people did before there was internet. When I considered opening my computer to write, I kept having the same thought.
That's been my answer for a lot of things. Sometimes I feel like I drowned in my own quest for perfection and was thrown into a complete loss for words. When I thought about writing, it felt so trivial and inadequate. It got to the point where every day things, like cooking Carter breakfast, overwhelmed me.
Maybe this is the fate of stay at home moms after two years. Maybe it's just a wave that crashed on me, and some fabulous peak is on its way. It could be that the excitement of building a new house wore off, there might not be anymore babies, and I'm faced with the monotonous thought, So, this is it.
But, whatever the purpose of this blog, I owe its readers that explanation. I've written for more than two years.
My son is too cute to hide in the shadows of the internet.