I couldn't get out of bed this morning. I slept for eight hours, but felt like I didn't sleep at all. I mustered up every ounce of energy I had and got Child ready for school. I left the house in jeans, with my hair soaking wet, and with huge bags under my eyes. As I turned into the parking lot of my work, it hit me.
The busyness crept in when I wasn't expecting it. I was running ragged. I hadn't practiced self-care in almost two weeks. I was eating junk food. I wasn't exercising. I was working on "stuff" from when I woke up to when I went to bed. Sure things were going well with Husband, but I was medicating big time with busyness.
So, instead of parking at work, I turned the car around and drove back home. I got in bed and let my body sleep until it felt rested. And four hours later, I woke up.
Busyness is my crutch. I think that because things were going well with Husband, I let my guard down. But now that I recognize what's going on, I'm going to take deep breaths and cancel my plans for tonight.
Because who in their right mind plans to demo a kitchen pantry and repaint it on a week night after working all day and cooking dinner? The woman who medicates with busyness to escape real life, that's who.
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