Ever have one of those weeks where, whether it is true or not, you feel like the world is against you and nothing is good and life is shit?
That's me this week. And I've been trying not to have a giant pity party for myself, but it has been a struggle and all came to a head on Wednesday.
Earlier that morning, while out walking Willow, I fell. And by fall, I mean, I stepped into an overgrown grassy hole in the ground, rolled by ankle all the way over and then did what in my mind was a graceful tuck and roll down a small hill, but in reality, was probably something more like this:
I sat on the ground cradling my ankle, making whimpering noises for a good fifteen minutes, while my dog ran off to do her business as far away from me as possible (which might be the only silver lining here - I didn't fall IN any dog poop).
When I was able to finally get up, I went on the search for the poop ('cause I am not THAT person) and on my way back to my car, realized my keys had flown out of whatever pocket I had put them in while I was rolling down the hill. By this point, I'd like it known (ie - give me a damn cookie here!) I had not yet succumbed to the flood of tears building up inside me and threatening a giant headache to put the icing on my shit cake of a week.
After what seemed like a very long time, and some serious breathing exercises to shake off the impending panic attack, like a beacon on a foggy night, I finally saw the tell-tale sparkle of my keys in the grass, and Willow and I headed back home. Where I promptly got the ice pack from the freezer, put it on my ankle, made a nest of pillows and blankets on the couch, and settled in for some serious self-pity time, a few tears, a giant bowl of Boom Chicka popcorn, and 5 hours of Unité 9 (my new favourite prison drama on Netflix).
Today is a better day. The swelling is down on my poor ankle. My back is feeling better after a couple of trips to the chiropractor (did I mention that I threw my back out WALKING a few weeks ago?), and I have done the laundry - which is kind of like a "how awful is Natasha feeling" gauge in my house. This week we were all almost out of clean underwear, and precariously close to the red DANGER zone!
This weekend is going to be one of self-care, and surrounding myself with the people I love, and who love me back. I will also be staring at these two great photos of my kids that the lovely and talented Julia Gabriel shot a few weeks ago. I can't wait to get them on canvas and onto a wall somewhere!
Sometimes all it takes to turn things around is a good hard look at what is good and beautiful in your life, and sometimes you may also have to up your dose of antidepressant again. Either way, life is not shit, the world is not against me, and it will all be OK.... eventually.
(repeat, repeat, repeat)