I was taking in therapy today about how much comfort and safety I get from my routines.
I’ve been out of those routines here for a little while with all the traveling and stuff from the month. And here’s the thing: I always look forward to traveling. Genuinely. I actually love it. I remember as a kid thinking about how amazing it would be to be an adult and get to travel where you wanted, and pack a big suitcase and wear fancy clothes and fly around to all these neat places and take photos.
I honestly still feel that way about traveling. It’s exciting. Every time. Still.
It’s coming home after traveling that’s always a little hard for me. I feel frustrated from having been out of my routines. I feel behind. I beat myself up for not getting my writing done while I was away, or for letting the house get dirty…and for lots of other unconscious things that aren’t even thoughts I put into language but just make me feel out of sorts and disconnected.
I dealt with that this week.
I knew I was going to, which helped me to just kind of sit with it as opposed to spiral or feel as though there was something wrong with me. That knowledge didn’t make the feeling kind of down and burned out feel any less deeply, though.
Sorry, just had to go find a song that had played on Liz’s insta story. I had it on my pop playlist, but I realized I’d gotten rid of it and that was a mistake. I like it. It gets to stay.
Where were we?
Burned out. Down. Grumpy.
I felt like that this week…but I knew why, and so I tried to just let it be. I think it worked, because I feel better. I felt better today.
It’s good to be home.