Tyranny

It's quite enjoyable outside.  The sun is shining and there are no clouds in sight, fluffy or otherwise.  The sun warms through my leggings into my skin but the breeze cools my arms.  Despite this pleasant existence outside, I can think of nothing more that I want than to be curled up in my bed.  Why? Who knows.  Not I, that's for sure.

I'll agree that it is nice out and the constant twitter of the birds has become a soothing white noise.  The lady next door has finally stopped mowing her lawn and now the whistles of the slow wind are audible again.

Still, my bed, just inside the house, calls to me and I can't quite understand why I'd rather be up there than down here on this sunny deck.  I really am quite enjoying myself out here but it feels like a chore.  I feel as though I don't deserve this niceness.  Like I don't deserve this moment of self care. 

A major trend of 2019 is #selfcare and that includes both mental and physical care.  The problem is that one is easier than the other and though I know the importance of both, my mental health remains uncared for.

Rather than a chore I should say it's a step in the right direction of "self care" since the sun is healing and the woodsy clean air is soothing.  Maybe that's why i'm so opposed to it, because I'm stuck in this rut of self destruction.  I feel as though I am undeserving of this healing so I try to convince myself, or push myself away back into bed where my mind can be free and unoccupied to create wild shapes and patterns inside my brain.

But I wont allow my brain to force me into isolation.  I can fight the urge and remain outside and enjoy the sound of birds calling at each other, the sun heating through my skin, the sound of the occasional car pass by and this warm cup of black tea.