One would think, after all I know about trauma and grief and PTSD, that I would know better than to watch the unfolding of the impeachment proceedings. I’m not going to get into a discussion of who is right and who is wrong. This is my page, so I have the right not to get involved in the political aspects of all of this. But, from a purely human standpoint, watching it all over again has been brutal.

Why did I watch? Good question. My best answer is, I’m an American citizen and when something of such import occurs, I feel it is my responsibility to know what’s happening. I was interested in seeing the exact timeline…which was well documented. And there were visual graphs that brought that information into clearer focus that I don’t think any of us were quite aware of before…especially those involved.

I made it through to about 1:30 yesterday afternoon then I became, quite literally, physically ill. It’s a combination of things, really. The wrong thing for breakfast. Coffee has suddenly started bothering me. And, unexplained stomach upset is one of the symptoms of hyperparathyroidism that I struggle with. Of course, one can only brush up against the triggers of PTSD so often without going over the edge and unfortunately, I pushed my boundary too far. It will take some work to re-compartmentalize that information, but it’ll come. And hopefully my upcoming surgery will take care of this particularly bothersome side effect of this disease.

In the meantime, I’m working on a few writing assignments and that is always a healthy distraction. I worked a little on the genealogy yesterday, but really…I just needed a break from the noise and the chaos, the TV and the screens, and just go outside and walk in the snow. We had quite a winter storm Wednesday night and it left us with about four inches of the white stuff. Mr. FixIt went out with his new snowblower and cleared the sidewalks once the snow stopped. He does like that and it’s good for him to have something to do.

A walk in the snow did wonders for my disposition. Meandering along the half-frozen creek, listening to the sounds of winter birds chattering low in the hedgerow. The low riffle of water as it trickles across stones worn smooth by the ever present flow. Feeling the collapse of earth beneath my feet where the moles and voles are busy living their lives underground…creating soft tunnels you can trace by the slight mounds in the snow. Seeing the snow covered nests of the summer birds, long gone south for the winter, waiting patiently for the spring thaw and their joyous return. The snow around the feeders marked heavily with little four-pronged footprints of the dozens of visitors…enjoying the abundance of our feeders. The bright scarlet and vivid blues of the cardinals and jays as they swoop in from the brush and trees that surround our property. Trees that reach naked arms to the leaden February sky. I breathe the cold air deep into my lungs with a hunger I forget I have. This long, quiet darkness of winter can wear thin in these days before the spring thaw. But they force me to find the hand of God as he leads me beside these still waters…and restores my soul.

?

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 4:6-7 NIV