My husband encourages me to get out of the house. But, I can’t bring myself to. Oh, just a walk would be nice, and I could play Ingress (blowing up things, even if it is only virtually, can be therapeutic). After all, as my husband suggests, no green butt will be kicked if I’m at home not willing to get off my blue butt. However, it’s not that I’m not willing or feeling lazy… I followed the plan (see yesterday’s post): after the school run, I sat at my piano, played and sang. Then, I even did some proper vocal exercises and, after that, played my flutes (all three of them, so none would feel left out…no, not at the same time, silly…one at a time).
Now I sit with a fortifying cup of hot chocolate and consider going out.
It’s that I might run into someone I might have to talk to. I can’t bear any social interaction at the moment. I feel nothing within myself that I can call upon to face the inevitable human contact that would occur if I went very far out my (rented) door. My mind reels with the frightful thought. The school run is bad enough, but I have to do that…I have no choice about it.
As I said in my last post, I have been withdrawing even more than my natural rather hermity state. No Facebook. No texting to reach out to anyone who has been considered a friend to maybe meet for coffee or whatever.
I told my husband that at least I’m not hurting or bothering anyone. They’re certainly ok without me. I know he’s worried about me being ok…and we all know that’s the last thing I am.
But, the plan…yes, day 2 successful, music therapy applied…I feel like shit, but also feel like I contributed something just by filling the atmosphere with more than hot air…something beautiful, something that makes sense. Life doesn’t make sense, but making music does.
Yeah, it is a shame no green arse is being kicked and my advance in the game is being halted by my physical, mental and emotional state… but, it is what it is. I wish I felt better, but I don’t. At least, if I can’t find it within myself to “go out”, I’m not going straight back to bed. It’s something.