This might be the longest blog post in the blogging history, so if you don't have enough time, then skip my blog post very simply, I won't take it personally.
This blog has always been/felt like a personal diary of mine, and this is not going to stop. I've already been told that I shared too much of my life & feelings, but I don't oblige anyone to read me, and given the tiny audience now reaching my blog, I don't see what are the risks ! Anyway, I never share things so very personal or shameful that I should be ashamed of it. I understand people who want to stay ultra private on the internet, so all I ask is understanding in return.
Anyway. That's not the point.
I've been experiencing such mixed feelings about so many things, that I feel stretched thin. To say that I'm running low on motivation in some precise areas of my life, is an understatement. I'm particularly talking about my creative/business life. I would love to dye, sew, embroider, draw, paint, create, but I don't find the f*cking time, and mostly, the motivation for it. I'm not a painter, I'm not an artist, I'm not a professionnal seamstress or dyer, I don't have any diplomas for any of these. I'm not a professional photographer, web designer, translator ... I do have ideas, but they are still on paper.
I'm no cook, no baker, no gardener, no knitter, no knit designer, no sewing pattern designer, no fabric designer, no illustrator, no photographer, no ceramist, no printmaker, no stamp carver, no farm keeper, no wool spinner, no bee keeper, no handbag designer, no house decorator, no jewelry designer, no leather crafter, no weaver, no stylist, no quilter, no writer, no shop owner, no doctor, no nurse, no surgeon, no teacher, nothing. Basically, I am nothing at all.
I never have anything cute or stunning beautiful to share, nothing extraordinary or well designed, nothing so poetic it blows your mind, nothing so creative you might fall from your chair.
I feel like I'm forever washing dishes, cooking, doing groceries, running errands, doing laundry, trying to keep things reasonably tidy, cleaning after the cat, cleaning after my boys (the 3 of them), ... and never finding the time or energy for anything else. (except working out at home, 4 times a week, with no sign of a result so far)
In simple words, I'm feeling rubbish at most everything I have been doing. And I feel even more so rubbish wondering how working outside moms do it all. How do they take care of everything, how do they manage to get everything done, children, hubby, sport, food, creative life, parents (their own parents, I mean) and family, friends, houseworks, social media life (if they have one), IN ADDITION to their working life ! How do they do ? And why don't I manage ?
And I feel even more so rubbish when I think I am very lucky to live my life the way it is. I am aware of it & it really makes me feel worse about feeling so bad.
And I keep on admiring those who are artists, seamtresses, dyers, embroiderers, those with a brick and mortar shop + an online shop and who also do markets & fairs, and those whose brain overflows with inspiration, and who manage to accomplish daily what I dream to accomplish in a lifetime ...
And I keep on admiring those living in the countryside, with a garden to grow, a terrace & those drying their laundry outside. I do not live in a cottage or a cute little wooden house, near the woods or a lake, or by the beach. No architect house, no custom made furniture, no house reno, no beautiful mountain landscape with fog around, facing the house. No lovely studio in a shed in the garden.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not jealous or envious. And crap, I'm probably lying, of course I am so damn envious, who am I kidding here ? Why do I have such a house & garden envy ? What is wrong with me ? I should be content with what I have. But is it so wrong to wish for better ?
We are now in March, and no sign of an answer about our future yet. It might take months. The two possible outcomes are such opposites that it's making me more & more anxious about it all, and is paralizing me in more ways than I care to admit. Keeping it secret to my inlaws (until the final outcome) is killing me softly. Not having sold my parents' house is nerve wracking as well. Believe me, if we had to go live abroad, the amount of things to get done in the time we shall be given, will be super challenge. Because things to do will pile up & pile up. Emptying our lives in boxes would be the easiest & fastest thing of all, actually.
Is it middle life crisis ?! I am not even 40, it doesn't make sense to me ! Am I mentally disturbed ? (don't feel obliged to answer this one !) What the hell is wrong with me ? Why is my mind so troubled ? I have yet to find answers.