Lately, I’ve been struggling. Money is tight as we frantically try to get the boat sufficiently shipshape to bail out of New Orleans in the event of a storm. We’ve lost another pet – my husband’s sweet old dog Scout. My son had another seizure. And, to be honest, my own emotional and mental well-being have not been all that they might be. I’ve been struggling with depression and anxiety that are exacerbated by all the things.

I’d scheduled the last Perilous and Sparks newsletter to go out the second or third week of June, and before I could make any changes to it – revise, review, what have you, my phone died. That meant I wasn’t able to get the necessary code to access the Mailchimp account I use to send out newsletters, so it went out without a link to one of the blog posts. A small detail, but when I’m in panic attack mode, a big crisis.

I’ve been neglecting my Perilous and Sparks stuff: the Instagram account, the blog, all of it despite the fact that I had posts ready to go. I even have a handful of brilliant women who wrote posts for me to publish. They were there. Waiting to be published. But I literally couldn’t bring myself to sign into the website and make it happen.

I’m tired, folks. I’m tired, and I’m beat down. I’m overwhelmed and under-somethinged. I’m not even sure what the something is.

It’s easy in a situation like this to give into the discouragement that I feel. I’m inclined to beat myself up for not doing more, being more, giving more, being better. Have you ever felt that way? I imagine you have. Maybe you even feel that way now. Like misfortune and hardship have ganged up on you and knocked you off your feet.

I can’t help thinking of One Punch Mickey from that film gem Snatch. Usually, I identify with Mickey because I’m always ready to jump back up and start swinging again.

Lately, though, I just haven’t had the energy. And that’s okay. We can’t always be Brad Pitt at his most sleek and streamlined and dynamic. Sometimes, we’re Brad Pitt in 12 Monkeys but without the benefit of a script or a ‘scrip.

During those times, I’ve learned it’s best to cut myself some slack. Take a step back. Do the bare minimum that must be done. Put myself in a little padded cell of my own making to avoid the rough blows delivered by life. In other words – rest and recuperate. And that’s okay.

I’m working on getting my feet back under me now, so be on the lookout for new posts from me and from my delightful friends who have been kind enough to share their own wisdom in several special delivery Innocent Postcards.