Self Care Saturday

Today I have not been a strong woman.

Today I have been a woman in hiding, sheltering behind the walls of food television, internet recipe sites and You Tube cooking videos.

I was going to go to the march in London, I was going to do so much but the very thought of setting foot outside of my house today filled me with uncertainty and anxiety.

Attempting to be a strong woman has its price, and that price is a collapse of anything even approaching strength. It’s not something I am particularly proud of, and I’m not usually one to run away, but there has been so much over the past 12 months piling on that I’m not sure that strength is possible at the moment.

So yes, I’m hiding. I’m avoiding the news because it’s full of That Man, and I have no wish to even talk about him or use his name.

I’m going to be hiding tomorrow. I suspect I will be hiding for a while.

clouds

 

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A Grinch Didn’t Steal Christmas

The…I hesitate to say man, but…the person who is President Elect did.

He took away the joy, he took away the lightness that people looked forward to all year. He’s stripped any certainty away from this life of mine, and he has voided all the grace, and the care and the thoughtfulness that went into the past terms filled by a REAL MAN who radiated nothing but respect and love to all. I DO NOT CARE about the politics, or if you hated him, but that man was a haven, and a safe, measured place, and now that safe place is gone. Whether you think it was the right thing or not doesn’t matter because dammit you let the wrong one in and I am scared that we will ALL pay.

All there is in my life now is fear. Real fear that we are headed into a far darker abyss than we have ever seen. I try to fight it, I try to lighten my days by looking at what I have, and who I have around me, but it’s there.

There is no joking about it for me. People try to make light of it, joking about him, but i cannot do that.

I just can’t. Nothing about this is funny, or lighthearted, or joyful.

I can’t see past it. It won’t go away. It refuses to leave and it stays and squats in my subconscious like the ugliest most wart covered toad there ever was, radiating hatred and degradation and darkness at my core.

I am aware this sounds overly dramatic. Tough. That’s how I feel.

These are such troubled times, and nowhere I look shows me brightness.

When this isle voted to leave the EU AND NO DO NOT TELL ME WHAT YOU VOTED I figured we could weather it. British resolve in the face of sheer fuckwittery has always been a very odd strongpoint of ours, but it’s been there.

But that, combined with That Man…every ability I have to be lighthearted about things has been stamped on.

When I say I do not want to talk about him, or hear about him, or even see his face or his voice, I really honestly mean it. I don’t want to know what he’s said, or done, or about to do. I would erase him from my mind if I could, but I can’t.

He is a canker, a sore that will not heal, pustulent and weeping, ever present, ever on the verge of virulent infection. I do not want to give him dominion over my brain but that thing has set up camp and will not vacate.

There is a creeping horror that I cannot hide from. it follows me day to day like a persistent smell, a waft of rotting vegetation, or stagnant water. No matter what I try and do , it is always there. Right at the base of things.

I’m fighting as best I can. Hiding from the worst things, and living in a bubble – do not judge me for that because it is my bubble and I am trying to protect it from the sheer awfulness that has descended.

I read about the food world, I talk to food people, I look at the food related posts on Instagram and lose myself in the most beautiful cookbooks and am using it all as a shield to keep my brain calm so I would thank you not to pierce it with the arrows of a harsh and frightening reality that is threatening to drown me so much that I fear I almost cannot draw breath.