February was an amazing month. My alterations business was going the best it ever had, and I was doing some of my best work ever both in my business and at my day job. It was fulfilling, fun, and I felt as if I had a true purpose.
March hit the skids, and April crashed into a wall. I didn’t realize how much of a strain the business was putting on my husband and on our marriage, or how hard it was for him to see me so stressed out I have trouble sleeping.
I read over a paragraph that I wrote in April:
I am starting to think that this is no longer worth it–the constant appointments, the stress of working extra hours, and mostly the unfair burden that is placed on my husband. He has been so wonderful and selfless when it comes to the constant parade of brides through our living room, but it’s starting to become too much.
I love the work. I love meeting with people. I love making a dress into something real and specific for one person. I love the stories.
Something fundamental changed inside my head between then and now–like someone turned off a fan that was turned on so high and causing such turbulence that I couldn’t see or hear clearly. I couldn’t find my footing before, and now my feet have found illusion of solid ground at last.
It’s quiet–too quiet–and I’m afraid I’m sinking.
This weighs heavy on my mind today. I had someone contact me about not just doing a bridesmaid dress, but a maternity one. I’m excited, but a little bit of me is terrified. It’s the first appointment I’ve had in almost a month, and the first of several commitments I have for the fall wedding season.
What if I can’t get back into business mode again? What if a little bit of noise and turbulence ramps up to a level where it consumes my senses? What if I don’t do anything and completely let the momentum go?
Ugh. I need to go for a run.
Spin. Run. Sew. Repeat. 