My life is feeling very full right now. In a good way - beautiful friends, healthy family, financially secure-ish for a while. Lots of wonderful things happening in my life and to those around me. Truly.
But there are dark things too. Murky things. Overwhelming things that I cannot process or fathom. So many things I want to help fix for others, to make it better, to make it all hurt less, to make it alright and happy ending-ish. And the realisation that I cannot help or save others from their situations is hard for me to bear at the moment. I want to wave a magic wand and kiss it all better, to be a fairy godmother who comes good and doesn't let anyone down - a miracle worker who changes dark to light, who heals all hurts. And I know I cannot do that for every single person in my life who is hurting - and there seems to be a lot of it going round at the moment. Big horrible scary shitty stuff. And it hurts like hell.
I've taken on a mighty amount of commitments at the moment which I am having a hard time fulfilling. I want to be all things to all people! And what does a gal do when she has a shit-tonne of work stuff to do?
Well this girl is writing tonight. Because she needs to. Because writing feels like coming up for air.
I write because I need to. Like breathing.
Of course I should be doing what I need to to get on with my writing projects, which are piling up with deadlines in view. Of course. There are more constructive ways I could be spending this time. But my head isn't in that space. And tonight, I need THIS space. I need to just breathe into this space and say I am here.
This is me, coming up for air.