Stuff to Do

At this time of year, I start to take stock - inventory. Where am I? Where was I meant to be? Am I living up to my own expectations and standards? I start to look around me at the STUFF. All the stuff which we accumulate, hoard, and then trip over in our daily life. Maybe it's because I have four children, but I feel like we have just SO MUCH STUFF, and it gets in the way of our actual life. Most of my day is dealing with all the stuff. I don't have time for life because I am a stuff wrangler. I want to embark on a process of simplification, which will eventually encompass all areas of my life, but since big goals aren't really my thing, and always lead to failure, I'm starting with one area. Specifically, food. I want to change the way I shop, the way I cook. I want to use what we already have, and not buy into the notion that I need to cook the cover of the magazine to nourish my family. In my pantry (which isn't massive, and I'm happy about it) I'

I feel angry. Why, you ask? I am angry at what I have missed this year. I am angry without a target, or at least one that helps. I am angry at the monsters of depression and anxiety, for what they have stolen from me. I was thinking the other day (as we often do this time of year) about the past year, and how it's been nearly a year since our friends came to visit our little corner of the globe. I stopped in my tracks - that cannot be possible. What the heck happened to this year? Where was I? I don't even know. Yes, we've had some wonderful moments, some happy occasions, but where was I? I was lost in a fog of housework, obligation, confusion, exhaustion. Forcing a smile for others whenever possible. Trying to be perfect for everyone all the time, and hating myself when I inevitably failed to measure up. It's almost like I have some kind of memory loss. Much like when I initially had PND, and I don't really recall the first six months of our second daught