feelings

 I just don't feel like I feel as many feelings as I used to. 

I feel the same ones a lot: anxious, bored, loneliness I am constantly trying to avoid, (anxious I will be bored or lonely), tired, obligated. Sometimes I pull off calm, rewarded, satisfied.  But it feels like this really narrow band of feelings. 

This weekend, I was home, I was setting the table, or clearing the table from our outdoor seder. I was tired and I found myself standing between the three tables trying to figure out what I was trying to do and just staring into space and looking around me. My mom kinda called me out, and next thing I knew I was laughing hysterically. I feel like I never laugh any more. All weekend it felt so good to be wrapped in the comfort of my family dynamics and the totally different energy of my young nibblings. 

I also never cry (unless I watch Grey's Anatomy, which is finally back on, and I honestly think, healthy for me). When I go to watch there's only a narrow band of kinds of stories I'm open to - that I don't have to worry will be too much - more stress, more anxiety, more tense muscles. 

It's hard to be single in this era. I don't have anyone to share the mundane - a reason to cook dinner, do something nice, someone else to decide to pick the movie, or to order carry out. Or to add joy. I don't laugh at TV alone, I never have. So I laugh less right now. And the miraculous. I am having a baby, it's moving inside me. I think it's harder to connect to the joy because all year I've been in a longterm and hard relationship with my body which treats food and stress and hormonal changes as a difficult cocktail that can suddenly make everything really hard. I am cautious. And having a miscarriage will do that. But so is living in a narrow world where you never share your body with anyone.

In reality when I think about this year, it feels long, and it has marked sections. When I burnt myself completely out on work/quit my meds/hit one of my lowest mental health moments ever (March - July), when I was pregnant the first time and extremely anxious and nauseated (July - Sept), when I recovered from my miscarriage and worked really hard to regain stability (Sept - Dec), when I was pregnant again (Dec - now). 

Throughout the pandemic, when I can get to equilibrium, I want more. I want joy. I want fun. I want ecstasy. I want bliss. 

Having been not fine in the last year, I appreciate being fine. I appreciate in particular the ease of this second pregnancy. I appreciate stability. Fine is fine. But I don't know how to get to more.