Thanks to my friend and husband for reminding me about writing. I’m feeling ambivalent about writing today, but I’m writing anyway. I feel tired and kind of depressed, like the clouds have rolled over and it’s like do they ever stop rolling? Is it what I get for judging others? Is it part of being human? Was it just too cold yesterday night and this morning? Do the questions ever stop?

Is feeling like a failure at motherhood just par for course? Is par for course the saying? Will I resist the urge to google whether it is?

Or is it something that indicates a state of unwell, which is soon to become a state of wellness? Why do I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle?

Which battle am I fighting?

Yesterday, the sun was shining. I had successfully gotten (or so I thought, maybe it wasn’t up to me after all) J to allow me to point to numbers in a book and read to him. I had successfully gotten J to cooperate with my lessons on self-feeding. I had successfully gotten J to cooperate with doing physical therapy exercises. I was feeling pretty good about myself when PohPoh rolled into the room and we started chatting. And then as the time went by I completely forgot what was on my calendar, so by noon I felt kind of bad about myself again.

Then I had a yummy lunch at Raw Earth. And these are the kinds of places where I kind of look at the owners and judge them, like are you the kind of person I want to be, because if I drink this juice and eat this food, I’m going to be like that? And they didn’t seem to be full of pep in their step. But whatever.

I also crabwalked while I was outside taking a walk with J because the wind was too much for him. Then my parents suggested some sort of wind jackets and things for the next time. But I’m feeling pessimistic. I’m not that proud of it.

I just want to feel well. But ever since I’ve moved here I’ve felt sort of weary. Sort of disheartened. Sort of confused. Then the pandemic hit. For awhile I felt lucky. I was an introvert after all. Business was fine. And then I had a baby. I struggled. I don’t like that I’m writing this. It’s May. Did I have too much fun in college? Is that why it’s hard?



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