Dear Pen Pal,
I hope the day has been kind to you, and if it hasn’t that you’ve at least be kind to yourself. I write this letter to you today with fatigue in my eyes, overwhelm on my mind, and melancholy with seemingly no roots.
When I find myself at this very specific intersection of peril (dramatic, I know,) I write. Hence this letter. I am hoping that these feelings pass swiftly, as I have a lot of life to live this week, and can’t afford a clouded brain. But if they decide to stay, I am hoping I can still show up.
Showing up right now doesn’t mean posting consistently on socials or immediately responding to the texts or calls of others. It means allowing myself to feel the feelings, staying hydrated, binge-watching a well-written TV show, and receiving a hug or two or three.
I am participating in the Brooklyn Experience Half Marathon this Sunday with essentially no training. And making it through this week feels way more difficult than getting to the finish line will be. But I know I’ll make it through, because that’s what I always do.
You might be pondering, “What is difficult about your week, Peneliope?” And the answer to your question wouldn’t be an answer at all. Because I know, but at the same time I don’t.
Here are things I know are contributing to my week:
Attempting to recover for last week’s BUSY week
Caregiver changes
Chronic pain flare
Not sleeping due to the chronic pain flare
Needing replacement wheelchair batteries (again)
And as far as the overwhelm and melancholy go I can’t pinpoint a specific trigger, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my ADHD and grief were trying to tag team me.
Regardless, I am doing what I can to remember that amidst all the bullshit there is still joy to experience. And I hope you can remember that too.
With immense appreciation,
Peneliope