The flames.

Being a housewife again means I have house work. And I am getting back into that habit. The cooking part is harder. I want to cook but I have issues eating things lately so cooking seems out of sorts. All I want to eat is pretzel sticks or bread sticks. Why would I want to cook things if I don't want to eat them? But I know I should be cooking, because my husband needs to eat and so do I. I really cannot live on pretzel sticks and bread. It just doesn't work that way. If only my tummy would agree.

I am trying to find passion again. The flames. I love making things and love when I am working on something. However lately it seems I am in a creative dead zone. Like my inability to eat means I can't create either. I have so many things pinned on Pinterest that I want to just make. I could probably do some of them with what I have at home, or even with a few minor purchases, but I start looking at the project and something just clicks off and the interest dies out and I close the page. I think "Why bother?" or "I don't really need to make that" or "Why do I want to make it? I have no use for it..."

There are several other projects but I need others to make them work. I need something I can do on my own. I can't depend on other people. I have to be able to do something on my own. I need to stop waiting on other people for my life to begin or have meaning. I rely on others, and usually it only ends up biting me in the ass because they never come through. Then I get depressed or angry.

I can't expect others to be at my becon call either, and I know that. But I have a fear of doing things alone. I need to get over this. I need to just bite the bullet. I didn't used to be this way. There was a time when I was independent and free. There was a time when I was able to just go out and do stuff.

But I lived in a small town then. I was closer to nature and more connected to myself. None of that applies anymore. Even if I go to a park here it feels fake. It feels like a zoo for nature. When I went home for my aunt's funeral I could feel real nature and I realized how much I missed it and how removed I am from it.

I don't know if I can find myself again here in the city. I have to try, because my home is here and my husband is here. But it is so hard. I wonder if the slow dying old me is why I can't eat or why I am not feeling creative lately. The thought is there.