Me & Demeter Hanging With the Dream King

This winter of discontent seems like it will never end.

The bipolar weather patterns of my geographical local are normal, 32° one day then 60°the next or 18°to 53° in the same day, for late February and early March. And we don't usually get to last frost dates until mid May. Yeah zone 6!

But this year it's like winter just can't leave.

And I am feeling it. The roller coaster temperatures are a mirror to my own temperament. Freak snow storms, torrential downpour, freezing cold and overcast skies all seem reflections of my emotional distances, sobbing bouts, rages, and exhaustion.

So as me and the family took a Saturday leisure drive these things occupied my mind as the unspring-like countryside rolled past.

I pondered snow covered hillsides when it was 55° outside and I contemplated grazing land withered and brown where grasses should be greening.

I thought where is Demeter? Like Babe what's up? Hello, Spring... Is this thing on?!

Then a thought crawled into my noggin; probably somewhere between the 100th time my kidlet told the 'banana' knock-knock joke and the 4th Erasure song on the radio; it hits me that maybe like me She just isn't ready.

Since the loss of the baby I've been feeling a lot like nothing matters. Not all the time but enough that I watch myself.

Am I depressed or grieving? And my angry at situational events or life? Can I face this happy occasion and not be Suzy Storm Cloud?

And the answers I've found so far are:both, both, nope.

It's no surprise either is that I am not sleeping. My mind runs at Mach speeds until about 4am each day. As a SAHM this stinks. And since day light savings my kid gets up two hours earlier.
And frankly for awhile there (like last week even) I was pushing as hard as I could to do the barest minimums. My house reflects this inertia or lack of REM or as I think of it my 'Ennui'.

I hate it. I hate clutter and mess and dirt.
Our home has it baby in spades. But the sheer volume of work needed stymies my efforts. I start and stop and then give up.

So what if Demeter is feeling the same way? What if the searching and hardships she's endured this year have taken a similar toll on Demeter?

How would the world look if she's been a raging insomniac with a filthy house and a preschooler who's daily life mission is to stretch her boundaries (all of them) past breaking?

How would the world look if She just couldn't give a damn about taking another step?

How would the world look if Her emotions are held in check by the thinnest of membranes?

How would the world be if she just laid down and refused to get up until the pain stops?

I think the world would look a lot like it does outside my dirty windows.

So for now if you need us, Demeter and I will be hanging with the Dream King.

I mean heck- what else can we do in the middle of the night. Blog?!

[Funny thing, as I write this in the wee hours my own Persephone began to whimper and cry. Terror shattered her sweet slumbers. I jump up and run to her. I rock her and settle her back into Morpheus' realm. And I am glad, for once, to have been awake.]