Once again, I’m hit with the overwhelming fact that today is once again Wednesday, and I don’t have the slightest clue where the week has gone, or what I’ve been doing. In fact, more often than not lately, I’ve just been feeling really burnt out on everything, and I’m trying to be more honest about it. I don’t have the energy to write, or read, or text my friends back a lot of the time. I feel isolated and want to sleep a lot but, insomnia is making that almost impossible for me. Work is… hard. Writing is… harder. And I just feel like everything is difficult.
Getting out of bed. Getting dressed in the morning. All of these things sound impossible to me.
This past weekend, my family did the thing that we always do as the summer turns to fall- we went apple picking. What was normally me, my mom, my little brother, and my grandmother turned into a much bigger affair. Me, my grandma, both brothers, my brother’s girlfriend, and my aunt all made our way to the orchard together this year, and while I wanted it to be a happy day trip, I couldn’t help but find it bittersweet.
Angel had wanted to go with us but, she left- to no fault of her own. (We still got to go to Stade’s and do some apple picking with my grandma.)
But for me, the hardest part was that my mom wasn’t there.
Looking back at old photos from our first trip to Royal Oak in September of 2014 kills me because, the three of us had so much fun there that year. But that was six years ago, and so much has changed.
Even yesterday hurt. I spent the day with my aunt baking with my mom’s recipes and the apples we’d picked. And while it wasn’t the same, not the same as the endless days baking with mom, or the equally as amazing days I spent baking with Angel- it was nice. I wanted nothing more than to hide away in my basement dwelling and avoid everyone and everything but, it was still nice.
Apple fritters, an apple cake, and banana bread.
Afterwards, I hid in the basement trying to get something written and watching Chopped Jr. so when I came up at 11p.m. at night seeking sustenance, the last thing I expected was to explain to my grandma how Chopped Jr. worked… and for her to end up making me a fried bologna sandwich. Why? Because I commented that someone did it on one of the shows I was watching that I’d never had one, and had come in search of the non-fried variety.
And you know what? It was pretty good and spending those 5-10 minutes in the kitchen with her were kind of fun
So, you know what? Let’s count that as my self-care routine for yesterday because, in these hard times, it’s difficult enough to allow ourselves to have something nice for a moment.
Just a moment.
-Sky
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