My therapist really helped me get back in my studio. She gave me the push I needed. It makes a world of difference. I was getting pretty bad. I would read the news. My heart would sink, legs grew weak. Was this reality. Is this really happening. From day one, the day he was there, I won’t write his name or their names, but it’s like that day in January.
I know for sure it’s true. It’s apocalyptic. I’m ok with the isolation, especially now that I’m doing more of what I want to do. Need to do. I always say if I didn’t have kids I’d paint all day. Now I have kids 24 hours a day. No time apart. They’ve done wonderful homeschooling. There’s definite strains from the isolation for the kids. They crave time with Friends, the park, people in general.
The sadness the despair is hard to navigate. I fight it hard to not get winded by it. I meditate, medicate, yoga, exercise, therapy, baths, and now finally my studio and writing. Studio first Homeschool second. Kids can paint with me, especially Fiona. Today we both hummed and sang quietly and painted.
Jacks been a pill. He has drastic changes in behavior. I always thought this negative self hatred was from the pressure of kindergarten. But Jack goes through being insecure but trying as long as I’m right near him. Then like a light switch he won’t do anything, he sulks, he feels ashamed and seeks approval, he blinks, he can’t sit still, he seems frustrated by the fact he doesn’t want to do his homework. Its like he doesn’t understand the feelings he’s having. I have no idea what to do. I don’t want him always feeling like he’s in trouble or disappointing people. Sometimes he’s ultra affectionate, sometimes hurtful. I almost wondered if he was mildly autistic or if he’s playing me to get out of doing stuff?
Anyhow it feels good to be writing and painting again. These are scary times.