F**k the risotto

Hi loves,

It’s the 30th of April, the last year of my thirties, I am tired and hungry and horny and a bit lonely, and everything I have taught myself to cope and survive is crumbling around me despite me clinging on to it.
A few painful realisations (not all of which I can take the credit for) have kicked me to the edge of well, either a breakdown or a breakthrough or… something hopefully new at the very least!
The first was a painfully beautiful message from my friend, after a few weeks of flirting painfully close to burnout, slash, my cyclical quarterly collapse, (where I decide that I just can’t do it all anymore). Where the weight of solo parenthood and all the other stuff feels so heavy I roll over onto the sofa and watch shit TV until I have a migraine and then roll into bed (mmmmm…it’s really a great look) and everything I do feels like, maybe what they say it feels like for astronauts after they get back to gravity and have to move their limbs again. .
We’d gone for a glass of wine after salsa class, where I shared a bit of this cycle of crashing then-dusting-myself-off-and-picking -it-all-up-again-and-pushing-on, and got home to a message from her….

“I've no idea how big your emotional waves must be when you consider your life to where you stand now. I wonder how you continue to show up with such conviction and I worry that it's your default- to show up as though you're unscathed and unaffected. Know that it isn't ever necessary in my presence”

This is just an excerpt from it but uff did it crush my little tough woman act. And made me realise how much energy I’ve wasted creating a facade of strength and doing etc.., that obviously wasn't fooling anyone!
This month in the midst of really struggling emotionally I have lifted more weight than ever at the gym, decided I want to train for a half marathon, bought myself a second-hand ipad soI can so a course in repeat pattern making, whilst getting the shop up and running amongst other things, which are all the absolute opposite of trying to be less exhausted. Which led to the well overdue realization that my coping mechanisms really need a total do over!

Then, my morning ritual which has also shrank to rare snatched moments, because of the above nonsense, involves a card pull and this baby just keeps popping up...
Death can mean that you are on the verge of meaningful change but are resisting it. his card signifies not physical death but rather a profound transformation. It represents the end of a significant phase in your life that you recognize is no longer serving you.

(no shit) and the more it comes up the more I hang on tight. Really tight.

Today as I finished my spanish lesson at the shop and talked to my friend lying spread across the table exhausted, I decided I’d make risotto for dinner, which I always do when I am running on empty, Fucking risotto! The most arduous dish for a tired person, standing, and stirring! For 20 minutes! What tired person needs to do this? Why am I like this? How do I change this?

Well I am tired, and I am tired of this shit. This lavish ruse to prove something to someone who either does not exist or care, or to the people who do care, who see right through it anyway! I am tired of taking everything so bloody seriously. I am tired of being so strict about my bedtime because I’m scared that if I’m tired I won’t be able to keep all the plates spinning tomorrow. I am bloody tired of holding onto these rigid systems that helped me put our life back together but now just keep me tired and hungry and horny and a little bit lonely.
So tonight on this last day of rainy April as a baby step towards a new chapted in my life, I shall not be making fucking risotto!

Love you
Sal x

P.S Whatever you are doing this evening, don’t make the risotto, unless you really really want to, (or unless someone else stirs it for you) cos there’s a whole buffet of equally delicious and way less taxing meals to be made x

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