One Dark Sunday

 

Have you ever reached a point where you feel like you can no longer cope? The black clouds exclude all light, a heaviness fills the air and the rage consumes you. It is at this point, I throw my axe into the eye of the storm, just as my emotional tornado hits. 90% of these uncontrollable forces floor me in the kitchen, at the most inconvenient time when the cognitive load significantly outweighs my ability to process. Invariably, laundry will be a main contributory factor. It is a weight that plays heavily on my mind and takes up way too much processing space. It is a continuous assault on my senses. The noise of the washing machine or the tumble dryer. The feel of the wet clothes or the overly dry clothes. The constant expectation of overflowing laundry baskets or floordrobes,  wet clothes in the machine, dry clothes in the dryer, not quite dry clothes on the washing line or hanging from radiators, the piles of the clothes waiting to be claimed or put away.  The overpowering smells of the detergents, dirty clothes, wet clothes, clothes drying... and then there are the bed sheets.

Just thinking about bed sheets fills with fear, guilt and shame...

And on this particular axe throwing escapade , it was the sheets situation that needed to change. The ones that no longer quite fit on the bed, the ones that are stained or ripped or the dog has attacked, the ones that are aversive to the touch, all of them were like an oppressive avalanche of unwanted, unloved fabric. They needed a new purpose, I needed not to hate them with such passion and so they were set aside to become a PhD quilt to document my journey into the unknown.   

I would like to welcome you to that process.