I’m finally starting to get it …

On days when I don’t exercise, I emotionally feel like crap.

On days when I eat really badly, I emotionally feel like crap.

On days when I don’t get out into the world and interact with it in some way or another, I emotionally feel like crap.

On days when I don’t use my creativity in one way or another, I emotionally feel like crap.

The days when I don’t do those thing, when I’m not taking care of myself … those are the days when I hate myself and my life.

Duh.  It’s so obvious that I can’t believe I didn’t put it together until now.

I’m eating some food and then I’m off for a hike.  Yippee!


I once asked a bird,
“How is it that you fly in this gravity
Of darkness?”
She responded,
“Love lifts



This morning I went up to The Fells after dropping Darwin off at school and took myself on a hike. Two straight hours of moving up legs back and forth, up and down, looking at the world around me and gaining perspective from nature.

I love to be outside, love the sounds and the feelings. I love the wind moving through the trees, love happening along a little stream. I love standing up at the top of a hill that I just climbed, feeling like the master of my own destiny, ruler of my own universe. I love the strain, exerting myself, love the amazing payback I get for the effort. I feel happier and more alive being out there, walking alone than I have in a long time.

I need to remember this. This veil of depression that’s been settling over my eyes is a road to disaster. I need to think of this time that I’ve been given right now, this momentary lapse in adulthood, as an opportunity. This is my chance to spend time alone, in the world. This is my chance to remember who I am and to figure out who I want to be. I need to learn to believe in myself. I need to remind myself of my place in the world. And in order to do that I need to be out, moving in it.

There’s a trail on the West Side of The Fells called The Skyline Trail. It’s my favorite trail to hike there, with a difficulty rating of 4 out of 5 stars. I found out today that its total distance from start to finish is 7.88 miles. Next week I’m going to hike the whole trail.

Just watch me.


I’m bored.  I’m bored and it’s leading me down the slippery slope into depression.  And then because I’m feeling depressed I’m finding it impossible to do anything about my boredom.

I need a good, cheap project.  Maybe I’ll knit myself a prayer shawl.  Or maybe I’ll actually start learning how to play the guitar.  Maybe I’ll use the Home Depot gift card I’ve got and paint some room in my house.  Or I could work on making my own bagels.

Or maybe I’ll just curl up in a ball and feel overwhelmed by my life, because that’s what I’ve been doing … at least for the last 2 days.

I feel like this would all be easier if it was summer because I’d just go to the pond every single day.  Oh well.

Any suggestions out there for awesomely fun, cheap projects that’ll keep me entertained for the length of my unemployment???


Sometimes I look at this thing that I am contemplating doing, this leaving of my husband, and all I can see is the good parts of that.  I would be free to explore who I am outside of a relationship, any relationship.  I would be able to burn incense again.  I could decorate the house how I want to.  I could eat nothing but fruit all summer long.  I could become a vegetarian without having to fight about why I wasn’t going to cook him meat anymore.  I would learn to depend on myself.  I would no longer have to feel alone all the time, despite the fact that I have a partner.  I would potentially be able to find someone with whom I am actually be better suited.  And most importantly I would, hopefully, no longer have him tethering me down and would instead figure out who I really want to be and then become that person.

But it’s not all positive, you know?  I would have to explain to the little one about why Dada wasn’t around anymore.  I would be giving up any speck of free time that I have.  I would have to get a roommate, after living with nobody but him for 7 years.  I’d be 30 years old and divorced.  I would be admitting defeat.   And I would be a single mother.

I don’t know how to ask for help.  It’s something that’s gotten in my way, something that’s strongly affected my life in a million different ways.  But it’s true … I don’t know how to ask for help.  I don’t know to ask my friends, who have their own lives, who are all about to start having their own children, for help.  I don’t think I can raise the boy on my own.  I don’t think that I am emotionally strong enough to be the mother I want to be without ever getting a break.  Because that’s what I’m talking about here.

And I know, I could hire a babysitter.  Parents do it all the time.  But I would be the primary care taker all the time.  I would be the only one to go pick him up from school when he was sick.  I would be the only one going to soccer games and school plays.  I would be doing it alone.

The thing is that I know my friends will help.  I know that my support system is stronger than I give them credit for.  But I can not expect that my friends will raise my child.  I can not expect them to become parents simply because I decide to leave my husband.

This is my biggest concern.  This is what keeps me up at night.  This is why I haven’t left yet.

The real question is … how different is that from how it is now?  Not as different as you might think, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less afraid.


I recently decided to open my heart to change.  I told the universe that I was willing and able to accept change, to welcome it, to learn to love the change.  And the universe listened … just not in the way that I thought it would.

Today I got laid off.

And now I’m finding myself a little bit shellshocked.  It’s not that I’m surprised that I got laid off (I’ve actuallybeen anticipating it for a while), it’s simply that I’m now surprised to find myself without a job.  It’s a strange thing.  But I’ve already got an interview set up for next week, so it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I should have known that the universe would listen.  And I should have remembered that it never listens quite the way you think it’s going to.


I worry that my friends who are coupled off, happily married, etc. will no longer want to hang out with me.

I worry that he will start drinking all the time again, and I will know that it’s my fault.

I worry that he will never be truly happy again, and will spend the rest of his life angry and bitter and sad (trust me, I know that this is totally self-centered, but I’m just listing my concerns here).

I worry that I will still run into him at social gatherings and I will, for the rest of my life, feel guilty that he’s in such rough shape because I’m not there to take care of him anymore.

I worry that he’ll drink himself to death, either by a long life of drinking or by driving himself off a cliff somewhere.

I worry that he’ll actually get his act together and become the wonderful person I know he can be and then I’ll feel horrible because he couldn’t do it while he was with me and had to wait until I was gone.

I worry that the little one will grow up thinking it was his fault, instead of understanding that what he did was open my eyes to the possibility of a better life.

I worry that I’ll end up repeating the same patterns over again in any other relationship I have.

I worry that I’ll never find anyone better for me.

I worry that I’ll end up alone.

I worry that I’ll never be happy again.