I can feel myself slipping away again. I've misplaced the Thing That Makes Me Me, whatever that is. It happens slowly, innocently, like it always does. I just get Busy. How can I not be? With two young children, a full-time job, pregnancy, and a husband in school--- it is inevitable that from time to time I forget myself.

It happens first when I stop reading. I can't get myself to a library for some reason or another, and my brain dulls a little. People Magazine fills my 5 minute voids, and I get depressed. Brad and Jennifer? Oh who the heck cares? And yet, the less I read, the less I want to read, and my mind settles into a sickening apathy of academia.

Then, I quit writing. I can't "force" inspiritation, I can't pencil it into my schedule, I can't make it fit my pace. I don't have the luxury of catering to it's demands at 2 o'clock in the morning-- so I putter out. I sit here, facing a white screen, cursor blinking expectantly at me, and nothing comes. I question myself, am I finished? Is this it for me? Have I finally tapped out?

But I know the answer to that. No. This is not it for me. I am not finished. I am not tapped out. I just have to turn around, backtrack, follow my steps to where I veered off. I've done it a thousand times, and I know I'll do it again a thousand more. That's the life we lead, especially as women. We take care of so many things, sometimes we forget to take care of ourselves as well. It's not just reading and writing, it's anything that makes you you-- whatever is yours alone.

I told a friend recently, if you are not taking care of yourself, then you can't take care of the other people in your life like you should. I absolutely believe this is true. It's not a matter of indulging your own selfish desires and neglecting their's. It's about being the best you, so that you are the best mom, the best wife, the best whatever. I am not just this person who does the laundry or makes meals-- anybody can be that for these people I love. I am more than that, and I need to give more than that. They deserve more from me than just the roles I fill. And I want to BE more. The only way to do that is to be healthy and happy with yourself first. As "Dr. Phil" as that sounds, it actually is true.

With that in mind, I think I'll head over to the library tomorrow, and submerge myself in words that move my blood. Strange how I find myself in pages of other peoples stories... how getting out of my life and into theirs is like going home. But that's another post.

Ya know--I feel better already.
I guess the books weren't the only things long overdue.