I hate feeling like I'm a burden, or that my ideas or needs, are a burden to anyone. I would rather simply do something myself, without asking for help, than feel like I'm causing someone else to be inconvenienced. Even if they're not, if I feel like my request is too big, I feel bad for suggesting it or asking. And heaven forbid if I'm joking about something and then someone goes and does it. Oy. Makes me feel wretched. I also hate asking for help if I know someone is already busy to the point of overload. I don't want to be the straw that breaks the camel's back, so to speak.
I was thinking about this a lot this weekend as I helped run my church's children's consignment sale. I'd rather think that I could do it all myself than ask someone else to give up a lovely fall weekend to help. The result is exhaustion. Especially tonight. It's not even 8pm and I swear I could fall sound asleep at my desk and not wake for at least 12 hours.
Exhaustion leads me to say things I might regret and give the impression I'm not grateful for the help and support I receive. But, I'm very grateful. Grateful for those who consistently reach out, those who help lift me up when I can barely keep my head above water, and grateful that those same people forgive me when I have a hard time expressing what I'm feeling. Tonight, I feel I am in need of that forgiveness.
So, before I say more than I intend or trip over my words anymore, I'm off. May Monday be a day of peace and happiness for all of you.
Showing posts with label exhaustion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exhaustion. Show all posts
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Source of Introspection.
Apparently, my posts have been throwing some of you for a loop. Swirling emails and questions about whether or not I think you have been untruthful have been abundant today. Please, let me put your worries to rest. I do not think you've been dishonest in anything. The source of my introspection is quite simply....
Exhaustion and Grief.
I am so exhausted I don't even know what day it is. Copious amounts of caffeine have been the staple of my diet for the last two weeks and, quite honestly, I'm so jittery at some points during the day I have to sit down or fall over. 2am has become my normal bedtime, and since the children wake up at 5:30-6:00, I get about 4 hours of sleep each night. Let me assure you that 4 hours of sleep is NOT a good thing.
There are things that I miss about sleeping. Like my pillow and having my eyes closed in rest rather than irritation because someone has decided to put marker all over my slipcovered sofa. And then there's those glorious silky sheets. I vaguely remember them, but...only vaguely.
Sleep. It's a long lost friend. And the lack of it is the muse that leads to wild ramblings on my blog in the wee hours of the morning.
And then there's grief.
Did I tell you I was playing back old messages on the answering machine and came across one from Frances? Do you know what she said at the end of her message? She said, "I love you and I'll be watching for you." Shattered my heart into a million pieces all over again.
I know it may not make sense to you why her death would affect me so much, but it did. It does. As horrible as it may seem to say I'm used to saying goodbye; it's true. I've had plenty of practice with working at the nursing home. I've said my fair share of goodbyes and kissed my fair share of foreheads over labored breaths and unresponsive eyelids. And I wouldn't trade those moments, no matter how hard they were, for an instant.
But with her....well, she was MY Frances. She wrote to me almost every week, sent me copies of the newsletter, kept me up to date on the gossip, and called me just to say hello. And though she was never one to show or speak a lot about her emotions....she always told me she loved me and how much I meant to her.
So, if I'm being too introspective, too disjointed in my thoughts and too philosophical in my posts....that's why.
No apologies.
No accusations.
No judgments.
Nothing beside me reaching out, searching for a connection to help curb the exhaustion and stem the flow of grief. Because ever bit of connection helps do that. Renews my energy, makes me smile and gets me through the day, or night as the case may be.
So, don't worry. I know you're who you say you are.
I'm just trying to figure out who I am at the moment.
Exhaustion and Grief.
I am so exhausted I don't even know what day it is. Copious amounts of caffeine have been the staple of my diet for the last two weeks and, quite honestly, I'm so jittery at some points during the day I have to sit down or fall over. 2am has become my normal bedtime, and since the children wake up at 5:30-6:00, I get about 4 hours of sleep each night. Let me assure you that 4 hours of sleep is NOT a good thing.
There are things that I miss about sleeping. Like my pillow and having my eyes closed in rest rather than irritation because someone has decided to put marker all over my slipcovered sofa. And then there's those glorious silky sheets. I vaguely remember them, but...only vaguely.
Sleep. It's a long lost friend. And the lack of it is the muse that leads to wild ramblings on my blog in the wee hours of the morning.
And then there's grief.
Did I tell you I was playing back old messages on the answering machine and came across one from Frances? Do you know what she said at the end of her message? She said, "I love you and I'll be watching for you." Shattered my heart into a million pieces all over again.
I know it may not make sense to you why her death would affect me so much, but it did. It does. As horrible as it may seem to say I'm used to saying goodbye; it's true. I've had plenty of practice with working at the nursing home. I've said my fair share of goodbyes and kissed my fair share of foreheads over labored breaths and unresponsive eyelids. And I wouldn't trade those moments, no matter how hard they were, for an instant.
But with her....well, she was MY Frances. She wrote to me almost every week, sent me copies of the newsletter, kept me up to date on the gossip, and called me just to say hello. And though she was never one to show or speak a lot about her emotions....she always told me she loved me and how much I meant to her.
So, if I'm being too introspective, too disjointed in my thoughts and too philosophical in my posts....that's why.
No apologies.
No accusations.
No judgments.
Nothing beside me reaching out, searching for a connection to help curb the exhaustion and stem the flow of grief. Because ever bit of connection helps do that. Renews my energy, makes me smile and gets me through the day, or night as the case may be.
So, don't worry. I know you're who you say you are.
I'm just trying to figure out who I am at the moment.
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