Don’t Ask – Decompressing

I returned home on Tuesday, around 8pm.  We sat down for a minute looking around, then heaved a sigh and unloaded the car.  The next day, we cleaned the car, cleaned a little of the house, tried to remember to do laundry, started school, went back to work, interviewed a nanny, and fell into a very deep sleep, only to wake up this morning bright and early, getting ready for work, return the car, and hit the grind again.

I leave town this weekend for a wedding, and next weekend for a party, all while beginning the new teaching session at the Brookfield Dance Academy which means every Sunday I’m driving to Wisconsin to teach.

All summer I’ve been looking forward to adventure, and the sense of peace that would follow.  In my head, my thoughts have been “I went out there, I did that, and then I go home and rest.”  But the rest hasn’t come yet.  The back to back travelling of the past few months has taken it’s toll, and I’m not sure how long it is going to take me to return to what constitutes normal.

This latest adventure has been the most interesting, eye-opening, strange and intense yet.  As soon as I had returned to cellphone service, I was getting excited texts and emails from friends and family.  Was it awesome??? They ask.  I’m so jealous! It must have been a blast!!

The multiple question marks and exclamation points are disorienting.  Contain your excitement, please.  I’m still decompressing.

Decompressing – a very common state after burns, and renaissance festivals, and theatre shows, and other intense, time and labor intensive endeavors.  I am trying to find the order beneath the chaos, clean the dust out of my sinuses, figure out what my routine ought to be, and catch my breath.

When people ask me what happened, did I have fun, will I show them my photos, I feel myself shrinking in my shoes.  I feel guilty for not having an answer right away, and for not having the excitement and enthusiasm they expect me to have. 

What happened?  Stuff.

Did I have fun?  I think so.  Mostly.

Photos?  Ok, but I don’t have the energy to explain them.

There is just so much information to process, so much pondering that needs to be sorted and emotions to reflect on.  It was, in its simplest form, everything I expected it to be.  And yet, I wasn’t ready for not being able to handle my expectations.  I had fun, but I’m trying to figure out what made me happy, what made me scared, what I would do differently.

Last night, my roommates asked me to tell them a little about what happened, what was it like.  I stared at my hands trying to figure out what happened, to pick out a singular piece, to put the feelings into words.  After some babbling, and with the help of someone else who was there, I eventually started forming cohesive sequences of events and the related emotions and thoughts that went with them. 

It is going to take some time, but I will be writing about this adventure, and it may come in spurts, and it may be interspersed with my normal (now seemingly mundane) knitting updates (I finished “a” sock while there), you will find out all about it.

Bear with me, ok?

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