is my home secretly a prison?
Hi you sexy, sexy people.
Forgive me, that was too forward. I feel great today, today is Monday, which is beloved for the fact that it is the day off of work for both my husband and I.
We took a nice 2 hour walk around the park today, enjoying the bloom of Spring, birds being chipper and merry, people soaking in the pleasant weather with their dogs, it was just a damn, nice and simple day.
Feasting my eyes upon the greenery, especially the tree line in the distance past the lake, invokes a sort of peaceful calm that has been sorely missed. Working from home, constantly swirling about in the same walls and areas, a majority of it spent in front of the computer and monitors, it is no wonder I can get a little stir crazy. A little cabin fever. A little doomsday.
Is my home secretly a prison?
It's a weird question, but have I fashioned my own sort of prison, disguised as home? I can imagine how it might be like — to be trapped in a white, padded room without any other forms of life. Am I akin to being locked in a strait-jacket, talking to myself as a way to keep myself sane? Is writing on my blog day-to-day, with no one to talk to about it, acknowledge it, or exchange blog posts with, truly just my way of keeping a grip on reality when the madness kicks at my heels?
How far deluded am I, and what are my chances of a full recovery?
These things I write aloud to you, as I'm certain many bloggers feel the same way.
If my home truly is a prison, well, it has 2 kitties, my husband, and occasional visitors that are quite good company. We have food, water, all the conveniences and even a private backyard to take our kitties out with supervision and do a little sunbathing and hammock-napping. If this is a prison of my own choosing, it's a pretty dang comfortable one!
It's also not entirely true that my writings are posted into the void, because of course, Bear has the discover feed and an uptick feature to signal proof of life (and general appreciation or compliments to the post).
And yes, for those who read and uptick the posts, I see you. Thank you. I often check back on the upticks and free analytics to see there are people around. It's not entirely a solo endeavor blogging here on Bear, though I wrote a second post on Pika, which definitely is publishing to the void. (And I'll possibly get into a different form of writing, more nitty gritty when I think no one is watching. That sounds dangerous and exciting!)
While I may not know who reads exactly, I have no qualms against it. I follow many other Bear blogs, upticking them without ever introducing myself. The only exception is when someone has a guestbook, I will sign them if I like their stuff and want to read more.
This is probably a sign for me to implement a guestbook (and anyone who resonates with this — I'm tasking you with implementing a guestbook now, too).
Time to think get outside the box and... touch grass?
My point is, writing on Bear blog is not a tell-tale sign of having gone bonkers, and my home is not actually a prison. If I'm questioning this, it's most likely that I need to break out of my comfort zone, even for a little, and vary my routines to get more stimulation and combat against the same shit, different day syndrome.
Going outside and touching grass (lol) gave me a moment to truly appreciate how much life surrounds us at any given moment — and that's deeply reassuring. Not all is lost, hope is not a crutch, and there are steps that I can take to improve my day to day.
To find relief from the grief, the stress, and the adulting that sometimes feels overwhelming, I have to remember to throw wild cards and do something completely unexpected just to shake up the plot a little bit.
Too much of the same ol' same ol' can be deafening, numbing, and soul-sucking.
There are already people dedicated to oppressing others.. let's not oppress ourselves, maybe? Shit. I don't mean to come off strong, but sometimes I feel really bad about circumstances and punish myself. That's just silly.
Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself
Why am I like Dobby, smashing myself into the wall and beating myself up for not living up to expectations nobody else is even holding me to? Well, I could really get into it, but I won't. It's not necessary to beat myself up anymore. In fact, I want to take this growth even further by letting myself enjoy life's pleasures without believing that old lie that I don't deserve them.
I do deserve them. You deserve good things, too.
Wishing you a great week ahead.
Thanks for being here.
Sincerely,
Nadine ♥