I cried on my way home from work tonight

I did. I cried in my car.

I cried in my car on my way to work. And on my way home from work. And I cried in the elevator.

Like. Can I just get a collective “fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck” from everyone?

By the time I saw Jan’s littles, my eyes were dried and I was chasing them around the living room with my fingers wild with tickling mischief. And they were dry when I talked to my 13-year-old when she asked if we could shop for her Grade 8 grad dress. And they were dry when I spoke to my 19-year-old living on her own for the first time and figuring out how to sign up for EI benefits because she’s been laid off. And dry for my 16-year-old who was going on a virtual date with a girl to the lake by our house.

Seriously. I just cried.

I cried like a child who placed third instead of first in that Science Fair they worked so hard for.

I’m trying everything I can to hold it together. And like I’d explained to Jan, about 80% of the time, I’m together. I’m showering and doing my make up every work day. And I’m eating meals, and trying not to snack too much. And I had a virtual doctor’s appointment today, and I’m still doing dishes. I’m behind on the laundry, and I’m still snuggling with my partner at night. That stuff seems kinda normal-ish.

But if you’re an extrovert like me; a gypsy-soul with the necessity to float around like fairy surfing on the tides of the wind, then you get why we’re not okay being hunkered down and isolated.

I can make exciting things up as I go along. A picture here. An online quiz there. I’m going to paint a new mural in my room. And I play with the kids. And I’m blogging more. And I’m communicating more with my partner. And I’m learning about me more and I’ve slowed down more.

But, “fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck”.

And so I cried today in my car. I wept and I was angry and I was sad and I was not ashamed of feeling all these things.

My meter tapped out at 80% today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get to 90. And maybe it’ll only reach 30, and that’ll be enough to get me dressed for work and back. And that’ll be okay, too. Because there’s no rule book right now. There’s no handbook. There’s no reference point. There’s no way of knowing what we’re supposed to be feeling, or how we get to feeling great again. Until it’s tomorrow, and we’re all looking back going – that was a really crazy time.

Love to you all.

— c ☆

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