I feel as though I have been through the ringer these past few days.
I hadn’t known what to write lately, it feels as though I had a dial inside my head that was turned from my Lokean and Spirit channel to a channel that went back to my roots in Neopagan practices.
I have to say that having a clear signal is a nice change from the mixture of Latin talk radio, Classical, Jazz, Pop, and the Jotnar equivalent of NPR rolling around in my mind like a bag of marbles.
Which feels weird, to say the least.
I was able to clean and reorganize our kitchen, and rearrange several of my Witchy tools into a kitchen shrine and altar. Now my mini cast iron cauldron shares a spot on the back of my stove with a wrought iron candlestick, an old ink bottle, and my spice rack (which holds not only spices, but also my ceramic skull, my offering bottle of rum, cornmeal, and a hot cocoa box with Yoda on it).
The center of the stove houses 2 glass votive candle-holders that I use for liquid offerings, a mini wooden bowl of salt, and a spot for different offering dishes to be switched out. My wooden knife block usually sits behind the center offerings, unless I am cooking. I also set up some of my glass herb jars on the counter for easier access, and I am brainstorming a way to bring down the rest of my herbs from our extra room.
We had our first thunderstorm this weekend, and I was able to gather some of the water to create my own version of holy water (I will post the recipe in another post).
I am currently brewing a test batch of Florida Water as well with the last of our vodka, and several different herbs, flowers, and lots of orange peels (recipe to follow as well)…
But all has not been sunshine and unicorn farts, my youngest has been sleeping poorly, and last night we had to sleep on the couch after a bedtime breakdown that ended in tears for everyone.
I have been struggling with frequent migraines that leave me wishing I could crack open my skull to relieve the agony between my eyes.
My husband has been fighting frequent colds or allergies, insomnia, and a possible downswing in his Bipolar disorder. I have been working on so many parenting weights, housekeeping, and chores that I am running on empty. I know it is something he does when I am unable to function, so I push myself above and beyond to make sure he can rest and recover.
My eldest had a school play on Wednesday night, and her 1st meeting with a new 1:1 technician. During the initial visit my youngest choked really badly on some diced pears, and I was able to leap into action by sweeping her mouth, performing the Heimlich maneuver, and clearing her airway. However, inside my head I was freaking out, and that freak-out built onto itself for the rest of the evening. It slowly crested during my eldest’s play.
I was on kid-duty while my husband filmed, and both littles were running, jumping, and playing the whole hour. My youngest decided that running the length of the cafeteria while yelling was perfect, and my 3 1/2 year old went between chasing her sister, playing with her ponies and snacking, to trying to pull the fire alarm. Overall everything worked out great, but I was left shaking, nauseous, exhausted, and sobbing once we got home.
The feelings all peaked in a panic attack that left me wrung out and feeling like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I hate feeling like this, I loathe the feelings of panic and fear that swamp me during my moments of losing it. I wish there was a magic bullet for this, but thus far, I haven’t found one. So I keep slogging, functioning, and count each fulfilled day as a success.
I know that I can keep going, even if I am screaming inside that I can’t.