Three weeks, two days, and counting.
At this point all I want to do is drink lemon ginger tea and dance wildly in a body that is not my own. In my mind I am moving and shaking all over the room with the freedom only my husband and kids seem to harness. Why is it so far from my reach? In reality I am sitting and sitting. Wishing I would allow my feet to move and my body to bend into rhythm and melody. What is it that forces me to remain still even as I am compelled to relinquish control of my inhibitions?
I suppose the real question concerns the metaphor. What does my physical inhibition have to do with the mental and spiritual state of my mind right now? Why is my self-reflection so empty? I want to give myself so many things but I don't know how right now. I think I would hate to be the person reading this right now. Who needs more fuel for depression? Ugh. But I think for me, at this time in my life, this writing might be the first gift I have given to myself in a long, long while.
