And the anxiety, what the hell? I have never felt this stuff before. And I'm loathe to label it as menopausal stuff - and not because of my age, or of menopause itself, but isn't it so stinking trite to use menopause as an excuse? I won't. Nor am I willing to engage in a dialogue that would explain my rage. That's terrible. The times I have tired, I have not felt heard. I feel myself running into walls, this only lifting the rage and anxiety to new heights. So I say nothing. I bottle it up. And then, I guess I could have predicted this, my back gives out! Ooops, another hole in the dam!
So on to gratitude... geez. The room I have for that today is tiny indeed. Nice physio girl told me to walk today, so I did. It's beautiful out and I smiled when I saw my first Spring crocuses. They are beautiful, joyful little flowers. That place in my heart where gratitude lives, swelled ... some. And some days I guess you take what you can get. And if all I got was this tiny swelling for those tiny flowers, so be it, I'll take it.