I plan to write a Top Ten Tuesday post today, and I will, but right now, I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself and I need to get this out.
I’m tired of being sick and I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of having to take and record my blood pressure every morning and every evening. I’m tired of having to leave the laundry room door open so the absence of sound reminds me that I was doing laundry. I’m tired of having the concentration powers of a hummingbird. I’m tired of realizing every day that I’m failing at motherhood and I’m failing at caring for my dogs. I’m tired of P having to worry about whether he can do something he really wants to do because he’s not sure that I can care for the house, the kids, the dogs, and myself without killing myself (unintentionally; not suicide, unless you consider trying to do everything when there’s a good chance that trying to do that is going to make me very sick, suicidal).
And I’m tired of not being strong enough to do the things that I want to do. I went to a sewing expo this past weekend for two of the four days it was running. By the end of the second day, I knew that I had made a big, gigantic mistake regarding my level of energy and my ability to cope. I’ve agreed to go to graduation this year for the school that I teach for. I’m now frantic about the decision because the pace for those two days is even more hard core than what I did at the sewing thing, and I’m afraid of what that will mean when I come home.
I’m tired of not being able to be spontaneous. I’m tired of not getting to work my younger dog or play with my kids in the way they would like. I’m tired of looking at the pile of quilts and crafts and thinking that I just can’t do any of that.
I’m tired of having to buy bread and cakes because I don’t even have the energy to mix up the stuff to put it in the bread machine. I’m tired of classes completely draining me and, ultimately, stripping away my censors so that I end up saying things I would just not say.
I’m tired of being told that if I’d just lose weight I’d feel better; if I’d just work out, I’d feel better; if I’d just put Ben in school instead of homeschooling him, I’d feel better. Working out wears me flat out. I get a real endorphin rush for a bit and then I’m flat out exhausted. I can’t work; I can’t think. I can’t be there for my kids, my dogs, or my husband.
I’m tired of being terrified that something is going to happen to Sam and I’m not going to be able to help her.
I’m just flat out tired.
Just wanted to say…I hope things ease up for you.
The only thing that has helped me was perscription iron pills, but I am sure you’d know if you were anemic, with your other health concerns (I had NO idea, and my regular doctor diagnosed only “stress and exhaustion”: that was true too though).
I hear you on censors – I am awful with this (if I feel tired AND safe, abandon hope).
Good luck. From what I read here, it sure doesn’t sound like you are failing at anything. Your daughter had terrifying surgery and you got through it with your family intact. Your son sounds like a very happy kid too!
I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way. You’re doing so much work, more than you realize. You homeschool a child, you just went through a major medical problem with another child–that alone is enough to wear anyone out. And I’ve done some online teaching too, so I know that what looks like “oh, how great, you work from home!” to other people actually means that it can feel like there’s no line between work and home. It sucks.
I hope you get some answers and some comfort soon.
I really need to write a book. Or maybe just a blog post. Or a comment on someone else’s blog. I really think our society has crossed the point of diminishing returns.
We’re forced to worked harder than ever just to make ends meet and the return on all of this hard work now approaches zero. I’m hearing more and more people say the same things you said in your post. I really wonder how much longer we can go like this? There are only 168 hours in any given week. We’ve let work and other obligations take more and more of that 168 hours. I don’t think we can go any more.
I don’t know, it’s a complicated topic. I feel like we’ve maxed out everything. Credit. Time. Speed. Life. We just can’t push it any harder without breaking something.
You are always welcome to do a guest post here if you want to, John.
I know that you’re right in the larger sense, but what’s got me so upset right now is the fact that I’m not trying to do more . . . I’m trying to do what I used to do before I got so sick. I don’t think I did too much, but now I can’t manage even the small stuff.
Eh, maybe I’m being utterly unrealistic. I don’t know.
I don’t know everyone’s exact circumstance. But the gist I’m getting from Facebook, Twitter, people I actually know in person, etc. is people are tired. They’re worn down. They’re sick, both literally and figuratively.
Maybe it’s just people I know. Or maybe it’s because most of my friends are roughly my age and we’re slipping into middle age together. I don’t know. I’m just envying people who live in places like Bhutan.