I know what it is I have to do.
The sun is shining, the lake is shimmering, the door is open and the curtain gently blowing in the breeze.
Yet, somehow I cannot make myself do it. I cannot make myself do anything.
For several days (or weeks, actually, if I were to be completely honest) I have been living within myself. Within my pyjamas. They are comfy enough for lounging in so if I absolutely do not have to go anywhere I will not bother getting dressed. If there is still peanut butter in the house and bread to put it on (soft, fresh light rye) I do not need to eat anything else.
It starts with a craving. Then extends to beyond the craving to simple inertia.
A little while ago I was reading another blogger who referred to her "peanut butter days" and I sat up immediately and thought: that is me, that describes my days right now. Her meaning of peanut butter days was different than mine, but I have had those kinds of peanut butter days, too. Oh my, yes. Scary, frustrating, impotent, totally stressful crunchy peanut butter days. But this, this is more like smooth peanut butter days. Pure comfort food.
I know that if I force myself to go for a walk I will feel better. If I phone a friend and meet up for coffee or a stroll through the gardens I may feel refreshed. I sometimes do that. And I do feel better. Alive. But it is a fleeting feeling. It lasts moments, then suddenly I am wearied of it all. I fake the gaiety. The smile becomes forced. I start to become impatient, and slightly ill-tempered. I long to get away. To be home. To be alone. How to explain this? How to deal with the fact that this company, this activity which had been enjoyable moments ago is now, inexplicably, overwhelmingly burdensome.
So, if she will allow me to borrow her phrase... I have read her posts (all of them by now, although I have not commented on any - I will, sometime) and I have read of the horror that she has gone through. The pain that she still endures.
What I am going through is no horror. It is not even really painful. It is ... spiritless.
These are my peanut butter days.
peanut butter days are good... we all need them sometimes...
ReplyDeletesorry to read about your Mum...
Thank you for visiting me :), Katie
It is a great phrase...no surprise that Whim coined that one. She is good with her words.
ReplyDeleteI think we all have the creamy kind of days. And I think we should embrace them. Let them nurture us. We'll know when it is time to venture out again.
A mind ids a powerful thing. I use it to escape the effect of peanut butter. bmy dreams and insight are suralistic ther are times when reality and dreams cross.
ReplyDeleteso i paint them and write them. the dor may be white gbut to me it is green. one time i was told my sky was gre3en. eating thu is not my thing i eat to live,not live to eat any i have an ulsur that my devil gave me in a dream.
Girl, I know just what you mean.
ReplyDeletewe all have peanut butter days i believe....it makes us wise and stronger most of teh times...
ReplyDeletetahnks for passing by my place
Thank you all for your comments, and for reading.
ReplyDeleteI can relate to that so much... yes, the smile is forced, the enthusiasm is like a mask that comes tumbling down the minute the door is closed. Sometimes I feel so sad, yet, not sad enough to cry, just sad to sit still and... be.
ReplyDeleteBut like anything, they go away. Blogging helped for me.
HD: Yes, that is it. I keep expecting the tears, but not feeling up (down?) for that. And yes, blogging is helping. You don't know whether I'm smiling or not, but when I get a response, be assured I am.
ReplyDeleteWe all need peanut butter days...
ReplyDelete