I originally started this post with a fake introduction and a preconceived idea as to what I was going to write about when I opened my computer. However, when I came outside in the fresh beachy air, swatted away a blow fly the size of my thumb nail and had a sip of coffee, my brain went blank and I forgot the false truth I was going to write.
For the past couple of weeks and months, I have been completely at odds with myself and trying to re-evaluate where I see my life going in the next five, seven and ten years. I have always been someone who plans life in increments of 5 years, something of which I have already spoken about in a previous post on Eliza Darcy and its happened since the witching of turning 30, that I feel as if I don’t know what it is that I meant to be doing.
Before we start jumping on the bandwagon of trying to put blame onto something that may well not be there and I’m possibly imagining it; life has been a complete and utter rollercoaster for me, privately. From having the shock diagnosis of Lois being told she has breast cancer, telling the family and us children that her breasts may be removed completely to combat further breast cancer, childhood memories revolting in my head at being able to snuggle up against a bouncy, flush chest and my dreaded nightmare of lying on a concaved chest.
On top, throw in some issues pertaining to work, the ever-increasing demands of being an Aged Care Registered Nurse, the threats of the royal commission pending over our heads and nothing truly being done (publicly and privately for the aged care workers), a few staff members leaving due to various reasons, favouritism and the ever-changing fluctuation of shifts and loss of physical and mental downtime is also playing a negative part. So much so, I swear I spent more time at work and attending to those with needs than tucking my son and husband into bed with a kiss.
Throw in the mass pandemic of covid-19 and my lack of empathy and sympathy to the doom-dwellers as I’ve fondly have referred to them as being; life has truly been fantastic. Hence why, I decided to take a step back from blogging and the online world of Eliza Darcy and spend whatever little time I had, trying to make it into a quality amount of time spent focusing on my own needs and wants and trying to establish some happy moments.
While trying to eliminate all sources pertaining to negativity, increased depressed like moods and seeking solstice within things that bring me joy like my garden, slowly redecorating my bedroom after months of putting it off (hoping to convince Mr. Darcy into letting me paint our bedroom wall!!) and grasping motherhood by the balls and coming to terms with everything that encompasses it.
As a result, when I started this letter to future self and to you, Dearest Reader, I was shit scared and metaphorical terms: about to poop myself from nerves because I thought I had lost my mojo of blogging. Turns out, I still have the knack of weaving a story or two.
Take care in this time of craziness and as one of my elderly residents would say: “God Speed and take care”.
– Eliza xx