Chose a cute, lighthearted photo of myself to post because I can’t bear another one of me lying in bed, looking sad and overwhelmed.
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I love, love, love the start of a new year. But I do place a lot of responsibility on myself. Goals. Resolutions. Self care. Plans for world domination. I have ten areas of my life I want to rock in 2020. Ten.
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So yeah, I’m overwhelmed. I can’t seem to focus. I feel like my body is a beehive. One thousand goals are buzzing around inside me, making me crazy and panicked. I hope hard work and magic turn them into honey.
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Why so many goals? Why not do something more manageable? Why bite off more than I can chew? Because I want it all. Because the areas overlap into each other. Because I’m called to some of it and some of it is forced on me.
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I think writing will be easier when I can reclaim my basement office. But renovations do not happen on my schedule. And writing will be easier if I can get some hormone help, but I’m nervous for the doctor and need someone to make me brave. But it’s just me. (No, it’s not, but that brings up the whole online dating scene, which is draining.) And I can’t handle draining things when I am already fatigued.
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It all ties together. I can’t isolate things. Maybe someone else can. I’ll ask my therapist. Maybe I should make a list. All I do lately is make lists. Lists keep me sane and give the illusion I’m making progress.
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I AM making progress.
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Sorry for the whining. I really needed to open the pressure valve though, and I do this by blogging. (LUCKY YOU.) ha!
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Welcome, 2020! I want you. Wipe my slate clean. New year, new joys, new mistakes. My theme for 2020 is Jesu Juva. Jesus, Help. Bach famously began his compositions with J.J. in the corner. This resonates deeply with me.
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