I'm not sure that the admission and the crying are related...I'm not sure that they're not. But here's how the evening basically went.
I got home from work weary, tired and a little defeated. Financial news isn't great, but it isn't terrible, and I do keep reminding myself that I'm a very fortunate person with a decent job, a good car, a good house, and I'm living in a place where it's pretty cheap and doesn't get terribly cold in the winter.
The fact that the "big vacation" I'd been dreaming about for days was not going to happen...well, that made me feel a tad petulant. As things like that typically do.
After calming down and then playing with Pearl--Pearl always needs attention when I get home, and I'm not sure how one denies this face the love and attention she needs.
Then I had leftovers for dinner and settled in to watch some knitting videos while working on the sock-yarn blanket (2 squares last night since I didn't knit on Tuesday). Then I worked on the Noro afghan. This is when I admitted my limitations.
I so desperately want this blanket finished. It's so gorgeous and beautiful and meaningful to me. And it's something that I'm making just for me. It's something that has thoroughly captivated me for the past 3 months. Plus, with cooler weather promising to get here in the next week, I need something to warm my toes and encourage kitties to sit in my lap.
Alas...my limitations are physical, not mental. It is physically exhausting knitting on long rows of a large lap blanket that weighs approximately 5 pounds (or more...I should weigh it when it's finished and find out). Thirty minutes and that's it.
So, I admitted my limitations and decided it was time I got back to working on Mom's Christmas socks, which I have to admit I'm not sure I'm crazy about, but that's another blog and a few days away from becoming a certainty. I knitted until around 9:30 when I went to bed.
I laid down, put my head on the pillow and thought about my gratitude. Yesterday I was grateful that I had been fortunate enough to have such wonderful parents. And then I cried. I've needed to cry. I haven't since the Awful News came last week. Not really. But last night I did. I feared I was going to get myself into a fit, but I managed to cry it out and eventually fall asleep. I woke again at 3 and cried some more.
Today I feel kind of "washed up." When I think back on this year...since February it's been a string of awful news...I'm not sure how I'm keeping up...how I'm not depressed. How I'm managing not to eat my miseries away I don't know. But somehow I'm keeping on, head held high. I'm losing weight and getting compliments almost every day. I'm still laughing at jokes and smiling at people and finding things each day to be grateful for. I'm low-key today...fighting the urge to hole up in my office and hide for a while (I'll do that at lunch)...I'm finding that despite my limitations I'm an incredibly resilient person. I've never really thought of myself that way, but I do now.