Diary of an everlasting moodswing


I am reading a book for the first time in three years.

Three years.

I spent the better part of 4 years of my life during college reading, reading, and reading a little more. For so long, my life was wholly tied up in literature, and I have a degree in English to show for it.

While the book I’m reading now isn’t significant enough to mention (maybe even an embarrassing choice), it is the ritual of grabbing twenty minutes of darkened silence and allowing myself to be caught-up in a swirling snow globe of delicious fiction that is really monumental in my world right now.

I am acutely aware that these moments I am stealing to read are so basic, yet so vital to me. Vital to the girl inside me who used to blaze with creativity — but now huddles quietly in some atrophied corner of my psyche.

What happened to her? What happened to me?

The past three years have been a flurry of deadlines, appointments, diapers, crying, incredible smiles and hours spent on the floor scooting Hot Wheels.

I’ve been happy, and busy, and my life is without question filled with love and joy, but until I lost myself in a book for the first time in three years this week, I didn’t realize that there are bits and pieces of me that have gone dormant.

I didn’t realize how badly I was missing some of my former pleasures. Simple things like reading, writing (I mean really writing), taking long drives alone with amazing music booming in the car — listening to amazing music, period.

How could I have forgotten how wonderful it feels to read? Am I really so caught up in living and momming that I have completely lost touch with my former passions?

I know the answer — and honestly — it’s strange that I have thought so little about this over the past few years.

Time just begins slipping by so quickly after you have your first child. Before you know it, you’re looking at a photo of yourself (like the one at the top of this post, which is 7 years old) and you know you’re aging because on some level, it’s like looking into the eyes of a child.

This is my first post for Just Write.


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