I have this problem with “relaxing.” That definition is very foreign to me. I keep thinking I need to be doing something productive or cleaning, or something. I need to learn to take my day of rest and just do things that are enjoyable to me. Everyone needs their down time, right? It’s like I preemptively rush myself to get so many things done. Like 24 hours in a day are not enough. It’s not a race, it’s a marathon, this life thing.

I’ve started a new One Note for our next Bible study. It made me feel good. Whatever I highlight during the chapter I write out there and make posts from it. It is a new method and I’m just sad I haven’t thought about this WAY earlier. No time like the present, it sure is a gift.

Some of the thoughts that have ran through my mind since coming to Patrick’s have consisted of:

I need to find a less expensive place that does hard-wood laminate for this condo. I’ve been thinking about colors to paint certain rooms. Wondering what color Eddie would like to choose for his room that can be shared equally with Lylah. We’ve gone though Ikea and have so many selected choices to choose from. Have a Keurig for Coffee/Tea and one for Hot Chocolate. I get to have my own little corner that represents me. It makes me so happy. This place just makes me happy. The location, the setup, the way I feel when I’m here. Patrick a couple steps away from being in my arms whenever I need his touch. Life has become a literal dream to me. I feel like I float from day to day in this joyful, confused, and content haze. It’s different. I love it.

I have a freeing feeling that makes me realize I can do anything I want with my life if I put my mind to it. Things are possible, I just felt so sheltered. I needed out. I still have that feeling from time to time, but not as bad.

The cherry on top is when I can start driving again. I won’t be able to contain that happiness. I need to talk to Dad about getting my Kia Soul into the shop to see if it’s salvageable. Whatever the outcome, it’s not something that I dwell on, ever. Driving is a privilege and I don’t feel I deserve to drive because I’m afraid of my addictions still. I have to be honest about this. I think I’m just afraid of making the same mistakes and reliving it all over again.

My fears are only even slightly true unless I decide to partake in them. Sad as it may seem.

I’m tapped out, I went in the wrong direction. Good goin’…