After 3 weeks of a sinus infection, I finally got antibiotics yesterday. Put it off, shrugged it off, stayed busy, stayed distracted. Stored in that infection is grief over our recent move and the transition into new territory. I know who I was not. I left her behind in the house too big for us, the one we had outgrown. How ironic is that!?
Somewhere in the middle of my head, I knew I hadn't faced the fear of the unknown. Just being present to the uneasiness change can bring. Anton's first cold after a week back at school sent me over the edge. Made me still enough yesterday to sit and admit to the most fragile and afraid parts of myself. Grief can become infected if you ignore it.
I'm going to just let myself cry, I think. And try not to clench, but let it wash over and through me. I really couldn't move our household and grieve at the same time. So here's the opportunity to do so and yes, I'll take it.
I let go of so much. I let it all go. Now I have all this new space and energy for something new and I don't quite know yet what it is. I'm a recent graduate, scared to death of the future. What the fuck am I going to paint now. I have no fucking idea. I admit to not knowing.
I open to it all.
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