Psychic Block

Back in college, I noticed a strange phenomenon that I had.  After a particularly grueling week of tests and/or papers, my brain kind of shut down the next week.  I couldn’t motivate myself to do any thinking.  I couldn’t read; I couldn’t study; I couldn’t write.  God forbid I had to do anything that next week because I would have to pull from the very depths of my being to do Any.  Thing.  After a few weeks of this habit, I realized what was going on.  I called it my Psychic Block. 

I learned to work around it.  I manipulated my classes and work to compensate.  I vegged the weekend after a hard week, so that I wouldn’t fall into the malaise the next week at work.  It’s why I demanded to go honeymoon somewhere we had already been.  Even now, the Psychic Block pops up a day after a hard day of mothering.

As I talked to my BFF the other night, I realized I had another Psychic Block on my hands.  I can’t bring myself to read hours and hours of blog post like I used to.  I love my favorite bloggers.  I love reading about their lives, their dreams, their families.  I often think of them as friends.  I love reading new people.  I love learning from all these amazing people.  And yet, for the last couple months, I can only force myself to read a little at a time.

And there’s a reason.  Some of you might remember me talking about fighting demons.  And I still am.  My marriage is on the rocks, hanging by a thread, deep in a coma.  And when I read about my favorite bloggers and their happy lives, it hurts my soul.  I think I might be jealous.  Happy for you all but jealous. 

I don’t want to go into it too much now.  I’m sure I’ll talk about it when I know which way it is all going down.  I’m trying to take responsibility for my end of things.  I’ve realized I’ve made mistakes, and I’m fixing them.  I’m realizing how much I love my husband and how much I would like our marriage to last.  But it might not work out.  He doesn’t know what he wants, and he has inflicted severe damage on our relationship.  I do know if we stick together, we’ll have to reinvent our marriage and work on some major defects in ourselves.  I’m ready for the challenge; he’s not. 

Every day I wake up alone to a baby cooing and two boys playing, waiting for me to feed them and take care of them, waiting for me to give them the signal to jump on the inflatable mattress their dad sleeps on in the home office.  All day I play the happy mother, trying to keep myself from getting locked in my head, remembering good and bad memories, playing future good and bad scenarios, analyzing his ever word and action, questioning his motives, crafting a thousand speeches.  Like I said a couple of weeks ago, there’s all kinds of crazy in my head.  On top of that, I’m trying hard to keep myself sane and healthy and becoming better than I am.  Every night I fall asleep alone listening to the sounds of baby breathing and praying for answers, strength, and wisdom.

So my friends, don’t give up on me.  I’ll get around to reading and commenting more and more.  Every day is a new day.  And a Psychic Block does not live forever.

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