Down the Rabbit Hole
This week can't seem to sort itself out.
One moment it's snowing, the next it's seventy degrees and sunny. The toddler curls into my lap for cuddles one minute and bites me the next. At work, I've gotten glowing compliments and carefully-worded critiques, all within the same hour.
I meant to write yesterday (before I got derailed by my husband) that Doris Grumbach's quote about solitude seems like an accurate description of morning pages. Maybe morning pages stand in for solitude at this stage of my life. I feel unorganized on the days when I don't write; irritable and easily distracted like an introvert who's spent too much time in a crowd.
I'm still listening to the audio book of Bessel van der Kolk's The Body Keeps the Score, which I wrote about on day 73 and again on day 83. I've bookmarked at least a dozen sound bites with cryptic notes such as "courtroom push back on repressed memories" and "directional brain cannot abolish bad feelings such as thinking you are fundamentally a terrible person even though you know you are not."
I feel like I'm falling down a rabbit hole. I have more clarity, but this clarity is dismantling everything I know about myself and the world.