Lately I have discovered I have a problem. It's called free time. I listen to other people talk about free time and how they don't have enough of it and they always want more of it. I just can't identify with that mindset. I have way too much free time. Growing up my Aunt P. would have "found" me "something to do" if I had complained of being bored. She was not a fan of the word "bored" or any form it can take. That was one of those quirks that I loved her for. However, the problem is not that I am bored or that I do not have enough to do. I cook, I clean, I job hunt. I hope against hope that I will be able to afford classes this semester.
No, the real problem is that I think too much. My brain cannot stop ruminating. It can get intense. The longer I have no intellectual pursuits the worse it becomes. This is certainly not that I condemn thinking or being an intellectual. Just that when I spend too much time alone with no intellectual pursuits I begin to lose some of my logic and rationality. It makes it more difficult for me to write (blog). I won't use the word crazy, but sometimes I feel like climbing walls. I simply cannot be tied down for any reason. Left to my own devices I need something to keep my mind occupied. I often fall into the realm of the past.
I will go over and over the same memories scouring them for more information. This is both helpful and not helpful. I have managed to accept a few of the tragedies that occurred during my lifetime. For example, the death of my friend C. whom I used to work with when my husband and I lived in Indiana. For a long time I could not face the fact that C. was gone. One of his favorite shows was My Name Is Earl. I have watched that show religiously for the past two years. It got canceled at the end of last season. When I realized the show was gone I felt like my friend had died all over again. I think I had put off accepting his death as long as I had a little memorial of him to hang onto. At first I thought I would be devastated. Yet, after a few more weeks I realized that I remember him joyfully. I am still sad he's gone, but I have accepted that it happened. Somehow putting my grief into something he cared about helped move me forward on that issue. So, that's just an example. It's minor compared to some of the other things I've been through (deaths in the family and more personal issues that I do not feel comfortable sharing in this rather public forum).
I have an overactive brain and when it doesn't have enough to do it seeks out all sorts of notions to churn over. On the one hand, it's good to have the time to process things (like C.'s death) that I put aside when I was too busy. On the other, I just feel like I have way too much free time. I really need a job again . . .
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I will pray that you find a job soon. I can sympathize a little. . . Being a mother makes me feel very occupied and very loved but also very intellectually alone. Also being an adult with a home and family helps me understand things that happened when I was younger, either as a child or while I was going through the process of becoming an adult (i.e. college). I see my parents' words and actions from an entirely different perspective, and that is sometimes difficult to process. I also make up strange mantras from the thoughts that pop into my head when I have no one to explain them to.
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