I’m losing it.

My mind, most of all. But if I must list everything, it’ll start with passion. For whatever I’m doing at the moment.

And it’s so ungrateful of me.

I’m waking up groggy and sleepy most mornings, with a little bit of excitement in my belly for a new day, which will turn into something that resembles having a brick stuck in my throat as the sun rises.

And Pippa… oh, Pippa. She’s turning 5 months this Sunday. People said if you want to know how it feels to have a child, start with a puppy. It sure does feel like it.

An organised chaos. (one of my favourite oxymorons).
A suffocating sweetness of a demanding, gentle soul.
A neurotic, irresistible little spark of madness.
A breath of fresh, milky air.

A dog. A puppy. A child in essence.

It’s mind-blowing how she sucks time and energy out of both of us. And it makes me feel so guilty inside. It’s like I don’t want to give myself to anything else but my own need. That’s why we bought a dog for. Mostly for me, so I can learn to carve that selfishness out of my flesh. And to learn to thread through the challenges with A, who most of the times has different views on how to handle things. It’s a big, real, eye-opener test for me.

I even stop being excited about church. I opened myself to God only in mornings and afternoons, and occasionally called on to His sweet name when I felt like I was about to losing it, and needed to remind myself to hold on to the Solid Rock. And to be grateful.

Not a third-world problem, I realized that. But still, sometimes it’s just so.. crippling.

I saw a screen of mist suspended above some fields on the way in to work; that’s when I know my favourite season is arriving. And I really hope it’s going to help me overcome this  wave of helplessness.

Now that I wrote all of this, and re-read them, I know what I’m lacking.
I’m desperate for a time for myself.

A day-off. I need a day-off.
To be suspended in the air like a pool of mist; just me.