I think the children might actually be learning to sleep like humans. Nights are dragging a little bit more in terms of getting them settled as the fight to stay awake and are interested in so much going on in the world, but they’re both more likely to actually sleep through now, and it’s even getting difficult to wake them in the morning. One set of problems traded for another on one level, but somehow they’re problems that seem familiar, and hence less frustrating. Well, ask me about it in few months, maybe.
So, husband is gone. He’s off to Dragonmeet UK for a convention and before that a meet-up with his editor and publicist and to sign 700 copies of his book in a small room. I’m pretty excited for him, even though I know it’s mostly not going to be exciting work – more duty, etc. But it feels like the sort of things one imagines published authors to be doing. Sometimes it’s important to do some of that stuff. Well, for me it would be. I vaguely acknowledge him as an entity in his own right, I suppose.
Meanwhile there are taxis and flights and rain and strong winds between him and his destination, and it won’t take a genius to figure out how my anxiety feels about all of that. The ritual blue-pillowcase has been packed and the general busyness of a school morning should distract me from most of what’s going on.
Whenever he’s away for a long period of time, I tend to start feeling a bit surreal and untethered. It’s hard to describe exactly what it is, but I often find my behaviour gets a bit different. For one thing the fact that I’m up and typing here at 06:30 this morning despite having gone to sleep later than usual. I’m a bit more “amped up”. I’m more likely to want to do silly and spontaneous shopping. When I was drinking, G. being away meant that I would certainly be indulging in alcohol for the duration of his absence.
I can still feel that old familiar tug, in fact.
What was it? Coping with loneliness? Dealing with the anxiety over my lack of control? I always always indulge in the horrible dark fantasy of “what if he never returns?” like I’m preparing myself so that I can deal with it if it happens.
Honestly? Nothing could prepare me for that, so why put myself through that nightmare in the first place?!
But it happens, right? Unexpected stuff. Cancer, crashes, freak accidents, and suddenly you’re without your supporting pillars.
G. definitely acts as supporting pillars for me. And a grounding rod when I get too close to floating away on chain lightening dancing through the clouds. And so much more besides. So I’ll be a bit adrift in my heart for the next five days, and I’ll obsessively track twitter and the various ways he exists online as it will feel like a touchstone bringing me back to myself a little.
And life is busy enough with children and school and house and dogs – and the fact that my mother is visiting today. Life is busy enough to keep me occupied and distracted and to fill the role that alcohol once did in these circumstances. Due to Gestational Diabetes, I can’t even use sugar as an “out” when the quiet night hours roll around.
But it’s okay, I guess I’ll just have to fake being a grown-up for a while.
My three half-hours on creativity this week have been spent on just getting set up. The Harvesters is back up online as far as it was created last time. Some of it seems still good. Lots of the drawing feels childish and disproportionate. Some of the panels don’t flow as well as I thought they did when I wrote them and laid them out. I think I can do a better job going forward.
But even if it’s not a great job, a finished job would be a wonderful thing to get to. So ultimately that’s my aim here. Finish the damned project.
It took me ages to get Scrivener installed and hooked up into the cloud correctly on Tuesday. I’m back to a writing task today and I suppose I’m going to start by thinking of outlines. I’m feeling the fear.
It’s probably worth reminding myself that the only goal here is to finish the damned project as well.
So, let’s do that. I can’t do that. Baby steps.