I made a confession in my weekly email this morning.
I have a confession to make. For those of you closest to me, you probably have seen the writing on the wall for quite some time. For the rest of you, maybe this will come as a shock.
I. Am. Struggling.
In every single area of my life, I feel frustrated, stressed, and plain ole overwhelmed. I'm not the wife, mother, daughter, or friend I want to be. I'm overweight and exhausted. I'm emotional and cranky and downright mean most of the time.
How I got to this place is complicated but how I'm going to get out is not.
Writing has always been my lifeline and yet it is the first thing to suffer when I get overwhelmed. I don't know why I still hesitate to share my struggles with all of you when sharing has saved me so many times in the past.
Writing is a solitary act that somehow makes me feel less alone and right now I feel very, very alone.
Today we are leaving for the beach. At first, I thought I would close down shop but the last thing I need right now is more time alone with my thoughts.
So, in accordance with Annie's brilliant parasite theory, I'm going to be sharing the scary every day I'm away. I'm going to be laying all the fear and sadness and anger that got me to this place out for all of you to see.
Either you'll tell me I'm as crazy as I feel or you'll find my voices sound a little bit like your voices and we'll all feel lighter when it's over.
But I can't stay here. I have to move forward so I'm going to write and publish everyday. There won't be any fancy Pinterest images or great tips or tricks.
Just me and lots of honesty and maybe some pictures of the waves as I begin my long swim back to shore.