Life is Art

This weekend I've learned I have problems. I'd looked forward to a weekend with just Sophie. I was happy Ralph was going to get some R&R time - albeit not entirely duty-free, as he would have Nels with him. I thought I'd be more relaxed than I have been lately.

Instead I am lonely and depressed. I tackle household projects, thinking there's a solution there - but there isn't. I work hard but feel sluggish. I feel behind on everything and oddly anti-social. It's almost as if I had this tremendous burst of energy that was enabling me to get through the changes of moving, the less-than-ideal situation of living with my parents, the newly-re-emerged unhappiness of my husband, the homesickness for Port Townsend. Now I'm running out of those reserves.

But mostly I'm just lonely. I suppose that's OK - it's been years since I've felt anything close to loneliness, so I should accept that's the way I feel now.

This site is really working for me on so many levels.

Labels: burnout