I didn’t want to let this much time go by between posts, but life has been insanely busy the last few weeks. I feel like I have no time. All of my time is working or my kids. I’ve been worried about losing myself again the way I did when I had postpartum depression, the way I did in my marriage. I feel like I just found myself again in the last few months. I know who I am, and I like who I am. I just don’t know if I can hold onto it with my busy schedule.
I had this training I had to go to on Friday. It was on the same road that leads to Antelope Island, one of my favorite local spots, one of my local sanctuaries, I suppose you could say. I so desperately wanted to screw the training and just keep driving—out to the island.
I have this yearning inside me to escape. I continue to have dreams, even small ones—like driving out to Antelope Island—that seem so far out of reach. Is this life? Living in a box with holes, where you can see the outside, see what you want, but are never able to get out?
I want to do more than survive. I’m just not sure how or if it really is possible.