cookie dough hang over.

i woke up starving. 

call it shame. call it sadness. call it deep raging desire. i didn't know any of this until a few minutes ago. what i really woke up with was a cookie dough hang over. i woke up feeling that my marriage is not well. i woke up feeling angry and hurt and not wanted by my partner. i woke up feeling stagnant. stunted. numb. thick. heavy with some joint pain on the side. i didn't want to get out of bed. yeah, no meditation at 5 am. i got up to pee and i was off....kettle on the fire, eggs out, lunch box open, hug kids, take out dog, filing and filling the morning needs. everything happening in one minute increments. kids in car. off with husband. i don't think there were any words exchanged between my husband and i other than do you want water?  this does not mean we are fighting or that he has any clue what is happening in my body let alone in his own body. it is 7:30 in the morning and we are running late. that is what we know. 

back to last night: the misfire of i unwrapped the shiny silver wrapper from the kerry gold butter something inside me was melting. i didn't know this was happening either. it was more than wanting cookie dough. it always is. here is the thing, it is easy to make cookie dough. everyone benefits the next day with a sweet treat in their lunch. i love a two for one deal. that doesn't happen if you get drunk at a bar.

i might want to mention this palpable loneliness that happens in the night as i walk out of my kids room with that final "good night i love you". it is as if i close the door, turn and walk directly into a thick fog that totally numbs me out. it is a vortex. 

i am deeply exhausted and finally free. 

i want to use the time wisely. i could do what i didn't get done, usually a long list of valid things that need attention. i could do what is right in front of me. dishes. laundry. clean lunchbox. get ready for tomorrow. possibly take a shower. i usually check email and get back to people who need to be replied to by the next day. there is the numbing scroll thru instagram that happens when i am not quite sure what i am doing. it is a strange. i am not ready for the night but it's here so what the hell do i do with it? 

last night it was cookie dough. as i am writing, i am realizing that there is not a lot of nourishment happening for me at this time of the night. i was also by myself. another key ingredient perhaps. i am not sure. 

all i know is this morning i woke up with this thick heavy something. i am not sure if it was inside of me or if i was inside of it. take a walk? write? buy the gifts on-line? numb. i will make a tea. i will go breathe. i didn't ask if i should do these things as i know (thank god) that i must have tea & breathe before anything else tries to happen. everything in me was fighting that too. just for context sake, yes i have to work today. time is so fucking precious.

i walked upstairs. i had my overly milked tea in hand. i sat down in criss cross apple sauce. i put the phone on airplane mode. i lit the candle. i called in my breath. to just breathe. please. i put my holey blanket on my legs. the weight of it helps me ground. i closed my eyes. all the thoughts are always there swarming in the ocean of my mind. i caught my breath in moments. one second. two second. breath. inhale. exhale. the swaying seaweed of my breath always gets caught in the coral of what is coming next or what this person thinks or the thank you note i need to write. all of it waiting for me. keep breathing. keep breathing. seaweed. inhale. exhale. 

after awhile, i picked the phone up to play the new adele song, hello. i heard it the other day in the car and so many images came to mind. i was hoping for that same rush. i was hoping to wake up. i was hoping to crack open. FUCK this heaviness. to feel something. anything but this numbness. to let it wash over me. to get in there and LET IT GO. to begin. to muse me up. to feel me up. to feel me down. something. anything. i listened. i bought the cd. i put it on again. i picked up my journal. i started to write. nothing. blah. blah. nothing. boring. then i moved my body. i picked up my heavy arms. i stretched to one side and then the other. this is a complete waste of time. get up. do something. buy the fucking christmas gifts. do what you need to do. get shit done.

i kept moving.

i moved through all of it. i wrote more. i wrote from my body. then i felt my body. i touched my chest. my legs. my breasts. i held myself. i melted.  this time it wasn't butter for the cookies. i fell into me. i fell into me. i fell into me. 

i wrote some more. i wrote about equal hunger. i wrote about being hungry. i wrote about being wanted. i wrote about longing. i wrote about being turned on. i wrote about turning myself on. i wrote about the fire. i wrote about setting myself free. my body wrote too. she wrote about sex and room and no more feeling bad and hunger. hunger. hunger.

she is so hungry. i am able to hear her now. the numbness is lifting. i lean in a little more. the milky tea is cold. i tell her that i hear her. i hold her. i hold me. i lean in. i let go.