dreams

sombre days for me, a lot of thoughts on youth and it's leaching away. feeling invisible in this mother chapter, even invisible to myself. I kept wondering at my lack of dreams, I'm not reaching for anything even down the road, for when my child is less dependant on mama and I wondered if it's that old familiar knowledge that I'll fail anyway, and the correlation - the more I think I'll succeed, the harder I'll fail. But maybe it's also the landscape, which may seem a strange thought and I'd like to find someone who has written on this better than I but I never have, and it's a musing I've had for a long time, the effect landscape has on a population and the individual. Mountain people vs prairie people. Kamloops clients were vastly different than any others, kind, interested, genuine, Salmon Armians the strangest. I know this isn't my landscape, "I'm not a coastal girl" I've said so many times, though I still do think this is a good town, and a good place in which to bring a child up, and it's not about me in this chapter, it's about the child. But it suffocates me, the thick saturated forest bearing down on the sea, one can't escape it save for a mossy but untreed bluff here or there, or in mandmade clearings and pastures. And I don't go on the sea. And there's only the one strip of road up and down the coast with the town like a bead on a string in the middle. I think maybe my hopes and dreams can't grow here, they're suffocated too. Would I have passions and hobbies and projects and desires if I was living in rolling open hills, or somewhere with no underbrush or moss, somewhere that dust existed in, somewhere with an open highway that linked up with roads uninterrupted across a whole continent? Somewhere with hay fields? I used to do horseback archery, I wanted to learn to brain tan, I hiked, I spun wool, I had sheep, I competed with horses, I rode horses, I drove horses, I wanted to get better at all those things. But now, here, there's nothing. No goal. Get healthy, stay healthy. Maybe that. Maybe it's not the landscape afterall. Maybe it's the traumatic years since the moment felix was born. My body continues to spiral into dis-ease, (my left breast is pinging as I write) and I am intolerable in relationship. I have no core, glute or back strength, I am crooked and dysfunctional and my eyesight and mental acuity are going downhill at a noticeable clip. I overreact, I have low reserves and less regulation than I'd like to believe of myself. Maybe it's not a time for dreams of the future. Maybe I first have to be ok now.