Same List, Different Twist

In January of this year, inspired by my friend Alison, I participated in a One-a-Day Photo Challenge that helped lift me out of the blogging doldrums. Finding myself once again in a state of low spirits and inspiration-stagnation, determined to drag myself out of it even if the process entails some kicking and screaming, I've decided it's time for another challenge.

I looked online today for fresh challenge lists; however, feeling too listless (no pun intended) to choose one, I'm borrowing an idea from my friend Annette. In February Annette picked up the photo challenge that Alison and I used in January, took the photos out of it, and used the list of prompts as writing exercises. That's what I'm going to do, too. Here's the first one:

One-a-Day Redux
Day One:  You

So, today's subject is me. (Isn't it always?) I haven't been in a good place lately. The road I traveled to get to this place seemed smooth until a crisis in the life of a family member created a gaping sinkhole in it. As I tried to somehow bridge the sinkhole, the surrounding asphalt began to cave in, resulting in other, smaller hazards that impeded my travel. One pothole after another needed to be filled before I could move.

No single obstacle exceeded my ability to cope, but so many of them, coming all at once as they did, nearly stopped me in my tracks. It was important to me to "keep on keepin' on," to "take one day at a time," and to "let a smile be my umbrella," so I filled the damned potholes, one by one. The sinkhole is still there, though we've temporarily fenced it in and figured out how to navigate around it, at least for the short term.

Now is when I should be able to get back on the road again, yet here I am, gridlocked by emotions I haven't allowed myself to feel until now, mired in a jumble of old fears that have been rekindled by recent events. I'm exhausted, anxious, jumpy, insomnolent, prone to burst into tears, and not much fun to be around.

And I will be fine.

This is what I do. I'm an excellent person to have around in times of crisis, because I hold myself together and do what needs to be done. But after the crisis, when things calm down to the point where I can take a deep, relaxing breath, I fall apart.

Right now I'm still stuck on this metaphorical road. I won't be here long. I know that, because I've been on much worse roads than this one in the miles I've traveled during my lifetime. All I need now is a little time, a little uninterrupted peace, a little rest.

And, perhaps, a thirty-one day challenge to set me off on a less hazardous course.