Well here we are, the second and last vacation for the summer. One more week away from work and life. One more week away from therapy. I know I really shouldn’t complain because T hasn’t taken any additional time away and the first week was my holiday and not his but something about the separation still hurts, even though it feels like it shouldn’t.
I’ve told myself that even though T said it was okay to be in touch I won’t be because once the first message is sent it feels like there needs to be more. And I don’t want to ruin his vacation. So this year, instead of sending messages I’ve decided that I’ll just spend some time blogging instead. And I won’t judge myself for how I feel and what I want and I’ll just leave it all here.
The first few days have been pretty blah. I’m sitting on the beach listening to the waves crash on the shore and I feel like I need to be somewhere else. I can’t tell you where my mind thinks it should be but it’s definitely not here.
Part of me wants to pack everything up and just go home. Part of me wants to just lay my head down and take the longest nap that’s possible. The push and pull is so incredibly exhausting that it’s hard to know what to do.
Tonight we’re supposed to get thunderstorms which I hate on a good day but when I’m sleeping in a tent it’s an extra nerve-wracking experience. I always feel like lightning is going to hit a tree beside me and a big branch is going to land on top of us killing us…which isn’t such a bad thought to have except that C is with me and I wouldn’t want him to see me dead.
Earlier today we went for a walk along my favourite Bay–the one where if I have the choice it’s where I’d like to die–and we came across these little flowers growing out of the rocks. It sorta reminded me of how trauma works sometimes and that even under the harshest conditions beautiful things can grow. Here’s a picture of the pretty little purple flower…sorry it’s a bit blurry because it was windy.
Anyways, I think we’re going to leave a day early because it’s supposed to rain buckets which does not feel enjoyable at all. C is okay with it. We’ve been in the water tons and I think he’s a bit water-logged. So as long as he’s okay with it so am I.
And that’ll be the end of my summer holidays. Now I just need to make it through September in one piece.