Compartments

 My primary coping mechanism is Compartmentalizing. My conscious mind is full of neat little shapes that fit the areas of my life. Family occupies their shape, friends have theirs, work has another, the books I read have their own area, my crafts another, emotions that belong solely to me have another that is somewhere in the middle. There are other areas I'm probably forgetting. The borders are not thick and impenetrable. There are air holes allowing some crossover. If I picture what this would look like to an outsider it's somewhere between a Zentangle and a Tetris board. 

During my normal day to day life, I jump back and forth between these areas, problem solving and feeling and planning. But if I have to focus on one or the other I tend to do my best to shove the other areas back in their predetermined spaces so I deal with the area in front of my face. If I need to work through a problem, I like to do mindless tasks so my brain can untangle problems. I knit or clean or organize and let my natural pattern-finding/solving skills go to work. It normally works just fine for me. It's imperfect because I'm human, but it's who I am.

I'm back on a book kick. I'm one of those readers who greatly prefers trilogies or series over stand alone books. I like to journey with characters. I have a hard time letting go of characters after only 200-400 pages. I just want to know more. I set a book challenge for myself this year. Read/listen to at least 52 books. I've already exceeded it. Mostly with fantasy series. And I just finished the last released book in a series I started a week or so ago. 

The book space in my brain is experiencing a book hangover that is trying to expand itself into the other spaces in my brain. The next book doesn't come out until February and I'm irritated because I have little to no patience. And I don't particularly want to start a new book right now. I want to know what happens with these particular characters, not start investing in new ones. Which is ridiculous to anyone who isn't a voracious reader.

Work has been...stressful. There has been a lot going on and that brain space has been processing at a speed that would like access to a super computer. I don't have one, so I'm just forcing it to shut down by working out on my newly acquired Nordic Track bike or by distracting myself by existing in a fantasy world of books. 

It's that dreaded delightful holiday season of the year 2020. I don't even know how to describe the emotions of that one. I can't decide if I'm numb to it or I want it to last awhile or if I want it to go away or if I just want to fast forward to 2021. I left my Halloween fairy lights up and put a stuffed Grinch up as my "decorations." I've bought the kids gifts and made a sum total of one of my planned gifts. So I'm not ready at all and instead of being worried about my lack of planning I'm completely unconcerned. So there's that. 

Last night I stayed up too late. Like way too late. I was watching videos on YouTube and knitting on a hat for myself, like it's not December, like my house isn't a mess, like I shouldn't have been doing 800 other things. But I was annoyed so I decided to do something selfish. I finally went to bed and found myself waking up every hour or two after inexplicably vivid dreams. 

Because in my dreams my compartments are meaningless. Everything slams into each other. It twirls and spins and blends and overlaps and becomes something entirely new. Sometimes something beautiful and inspiring. And sometimes it wakes me with cold sweats. After waking up I don't know how many times, I just got up. My CPAP claims I slept a little over 5.5 hours, but I'm fairly sure it just counts how long my mask was on - so it's a liar. 

So this morning, I've been wandering around doing household chores with my headphones on - music blaring. The house isn't fully awake. I've done dishes, started laundry, cleaned my coffee pot, taken out trash and felt the need to write. To try to make sense of the dreams that chased me out of bed. 

For some dreams are meaningless. Others put a lot of stock in their dreams. I tend to be somewhere in the middle. When my dreams get as twisted as they have been the last few weeks - I know I need to find some order again. That something in my life is drastically out of balance and I'm avoiding dealing with it. Or I'm drowning in it. That my compartments aren't holding out well. So while I ponder and really examine what's causing me so much grief - I'm cleaning and keeping my hands busy so that my brain can think. And to be honest - my house needs it anyway.

What is a Zentangle? Here's an example I really like :)