A head full of garbage

I'm so awesome at keeping my shit in order.

You know the mental shit we continue to store in our never ending head space?

This week it's a garbled mess of short fuses and broken connections.

I'm not sure why.

It's irritating.

I irritate myself.

Everyone around me is irritating.

The word irritate is irritating.

Get the picture?

There's definitely something lurking there.

Either I'm subconsciously ignoring it and choosing to be cranky at the world instead or I'm going insane.

I guess I already knew both of those options were likely.

I think it may have something to do with going back to paid work for the first time since I was pregnant with Yuna.

I'm a nurse. I work in a hospital.

Not my most favourite place in the world. Lots of history. Lots of memories surface for me.

I coped. Well that's the key isn't it. Coping?

I think though it may have been more of a "put yourself on autopilot, do the job and not think about anything too emotional or you might lose it" mode.

Which in turn has left me feeling like I don't know how I'm feeling at all.

In two months it will be two years since Yuna was born. Saying that and acknowledging that fact seems to create that deep empty black vortex in my chest. The one I've managed to patch closed without too much spilling out.

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with this information either.

It would have been her birthday.

It will be her birthday?

I don't know how to approach that this year.

Last year, the first year was a blur. We did things for her but it wasn't felt.

We just did what we thought we should have done.

Like robots.

This year it's all just a big ???? for me.