Sunday evening I received a text of the most awful kind. It was telling me that a friend and co-worker had suddenly, and unexpectedly, passed away the evening before from a massive heart attack. This is never easy news to hear, but it was even harder to absorb because he was the epitome of health and activeness. He was a funny, kind, God loving, genuine, and passionate man, and the hole he has left in our work family is large. He was only 55.
The visitation was Wednesday night, and Thursday morning was the funeral. It was one of the harder ones I’ve ever been to, but also one of the most touching. The outpouring of folks who came to celebrate his life, and pay their final respects, was overwhelming to see. And it has made me think long and hard about my own life, and the legacy I want to someday leave behind. It is so easy to get swept up in the daily aggravations of just living out the day. Traffic, messy houses, cranky co-workers, deadlines of all kinds…all of these things can take center stage in our awareness, making us forget about the things we should really be focusing on. One of my problems is that these daily aggravations take on a life of their own in my mind. I don’t just forget about the truly important things in life…it’s like I’ve never been able to really figure out what they are in the first place. This scares me and makes me more sad that I can even put into words. I’ve spoken about how hard the past few weeks have been. But what I don’t think I’ve been truly able to convey is just how deep the pain I carry with me goes. Tonight I was faced with a harsh reality check. And I’d like to say that I came out of this evening stronger and surer and more hopeful. But instead, I’m more scared and carrying more pain than ever before. There is no easy answer…no easy fix. The road ahead is unsure. I can’t pretend that the darkest of thoughts haven’t risen to the surface again. Thoughts of carrying out the plan that I’ve held in my back pocket since my hospitalization. Yes, I have a plan. I’ve taken it out, dusted it off, examined it and considered it. I’ve done this on more than one occasion of late. I’ve been told it’s selfish of me to think like this. And maybe it is. But sometimes the hurt is so much that the idea of the pain going away makes the selfishness worth it. What I want to do…feel that I must do…is hide away for awhile. Some would say that’s the last thing I should do, but they would be wrong. Forcing me to participate in my surroundings when my soul is screaming to be left alone never works out. It’s always left me feeling resentful and angry on top of everything else swirling around inside. Feeling connected to people doesn’t make me feel better. It never has. I hope tomorrow is brighter when I wake up.
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I know exactly what Bill Murray's character felt like. It feels like I've been re-living the same day for the past month. In one way I suppose it's good because it's turning the anger that was focused inward last week into a really pissed off-ness on the outside this week. Oh, how I'm annoyed and irritated these days. I don't like repeating myself and GOOD GOD, that's all I feel like I've been doing for weeks now. There are just so many ways you can say something before a feeling of complete rage takes over when the receiving end doesn't seem to compute. Yesterday alone, I had to tell a person six times in a row, OVER their arguing with me, to just forward me an email they were grappling with that had been sent to them in error. It was my issue, I told them that, and then had to say SIX TIMES "just send it to me" - and they still argued with me about how they didn't know anything about the issue!!! Really? It's like I was literally talking to a brick wall.
This keeps happening, and I don't understand it. I'm a pretty clear person. You can normally tell exactly how I'm feeling by looking at my face. It's all there in plain sight. And if I'm on the phone with you, it's in my voice. I don't have the capacity to mask my mood very well. Lately, that mood has been impatient. Irritated. Annoyed. A walking, talking "WTF?". Because I have to keep saying the same damn things over and over and over and over and over again across a variety of scenarios. I can't figure out if people are being obtuse on purpose, trying to be stubborn, or if they truly don't get it. I've decided I'm going to lead in with that question from now on. I'll start off with, "Are you dumb? Because if you're just plain dumb, I'm not talking to you." Period. Enter. New subject. *Deep sigh.* This week has been tougher than normal. We lost hundreds of folks at work to retirement today. In my little corner of the company, I know about 10-15. Their official last day in the office was today, so the past 2 days have been filled with retirement receptions and good-byes. I hate good-byes. They suck. What's worse is I had to stay home today, so I missed seeing all of them one last time. One of those people was my first boss here 9 1/2 years ago. He interviewed me, hired me, and showed me patience for the first 2 years as I stumbled my way through a brand new field of work. I did get to give him a hug yesterday, and he made me cry when he gave his good-bye speech, and lots of us took a picture with him, but it's not the same as getting to say good-bye good-bye, ya know? :( Also, thank you to my dear BFF (you know who you are) who showed me just as much patience and shared a vast world of knowledge with me during the same time. You are NOT retiring, but it is appropriate to thank you here. :) I'm mad that I had to stay home today because I'm sick. I'm sick because I've allowed myself to get completely worn out and I haven't taken care of myself. I'll admit it. I'm working long days, getting little sleep, not eating, and could probably put the entire total of water I've drunk in 2 weeks into one 32 oz. cup. I've let my fear of the future, the immediate future, drive me into this. I'm scared of what might happen, but it's out of my hands, except, I can't accept that, so I try to be as perfect as possible because I can control that, and well...it's a do-loop. "Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today." --Phil Connors (and me) P.S. I finally got the friggin' pinks to sorta match. That has been driving me nuts. Most of us live our lives attempting to keep a healthy balance of all the different areas we dabble in. Home, work, school, play, and any combination thereof are meant to exist in harmony with one another. When one or more of these get more time than the rest, it can skew everything.
My scales have been teetering in a dangerous way for a time now. My job is uncertain, yet work is still barreling forward at a breakneck speed that is rapidly emptying my tank. My ability to rest and relax is at an all-time low, which only weakens the sketchy defenses I have against the darkness that is always trying to burrow into my mind. My anxiety over the damage I’m doing to my children, my husband, and my friends continues to climb. It’s all jumbling together in a massive, crushing wave of hatred. A hatred that is so intense that my scale hit the tipping point and I bottomed out today. I spent 90-ish% of my day in tears. The kind that can’t be controlled and are difficult to explain away. So, I did what I do best. I clammed up, and I didn’t explain. I started re-building the walls around me that keep everyone out. And I have no intention of bringing them down ever again. The pain inside is too much. The ever present worry that I carry around is too much. The guilt over being who I am and putting my friends and family through the ups and downs of being near me is too much. The world itself is just too much. And I have no more strength left to try and keep myself afloat in it. The fight has gone out of me. The desire to keep battling is gone. The only hope I have left is that maybe I can finally find peace if I just allow myself to let go. Thank you for reading this past year. It's been a ride. I read an article a few days ago about the best thing every mother can do for herself for this Mother’s Day. It spoke about granting ourselves grace. It’s a concept that my mind refuses to wrap itself around.
I am many, many things. Just two of those things are: a mother and a perfectionist. And what I’ve learned over the 11 ½ years of being these two very distinctly difficult things is that this combo is a recipe for disaster. Even more than that…it’s an impossibility. Every day I make mistakes while parenting my children. I will forget to wash their gym clothes. I’ll be too tired to check their behavior sheet and jot down my initials showing I am aware of their listening skills. I forget about the Froot Loops I’m supposed to buy for their classroom’s snack, and I’ll roll my eyes and sigh when I see the forgotten trash left on the table after lunch. If I’m very lucky, my girls will either not notice these failures of mine, or at least not be too upset for too long. But, I am not nearly as forgiving of myself as they seem to be. The perfectionist in me catalogues every single error, every errant thought, and every tiny…and not so tiny…misstep. I have giant Smithsonian sized files in my mind tracking every reason why I should be awarded The Worst Mother in the World Award. Grace. It’s something I’m getting better at giving to others. But I cannot give it to myself. God has deemed me worthy and sufficient for his grace. Despite my faults…despite every flaw that pierces my soul….He freely gives His grace to me. The sheer enormity of this truth overwhelms me. I do not feel worthy of it, and I don’t think I ever will. There is a hole inside me that I don’t know will ever be filled. A sadness, a tight little ball of fear, that I will never actually be a good person. And certainly not a good enough person to be blessed with such incredible daughters. I live in constant worry that God will finally grow tired of watching me fall down and take my children away from me as punishment. There are parts of my brain that know He doesn’t work that way. But those parts don’t seem to be enough to quell the louder voice that screams and echoes inside my head. It’s a voice that sounds like the color black and tells me what an awful person I’ve always been….and forever will be. It reminds me of every childhood meanness, calls attention over and over again to all the horrible things I’ve ever thought or done, and it delights in giving a nightmarish narration of my life as I’m living it. How do you drown out a voice like that? For now I’m simply trying to ignore it, but it’s so hard. A few years ago that voice got so incredibly loud that I had no other choice but to listen to it…and I spiraled so hard and so deep that I’m still digging my way up, even while feeling threatened of being knocked down again. I can’t fully hide all of this from my children, though, I would love nothing more than for them to only see smiles and laughter from me. The days they do catch glimpses of that mother, it’s like they are experiencing their birthdays, Christmas morning, and summer vacation all at once. It sounds great, doesn’t it? And it is. But it’s also a reminder – a huge, glaring reminder – that the joyous mom they so much deserve is a rarity in their lives. I don’t want it to be rare. I want smiles, laughter, never ending patience, and an unwavering ability to play every game in the world without gritted teeth. That’s the mom H and L deserve. Not this shell of a person they are stuck with. I want to be able to give myself grace. It’s a nice thought, but I just don’t know how to get there. So, as He’s always done, and will always do, God is holding me up with enough grace to cover my lack of it. I cling to that. And I cling to the hope that as my daughters get older, they will always see the desire I have to be the mom they deserve. This week was a game changer. I’m still reeling from everything that was thrown at me the past 5 days. To be honest, I was so tired and overwhelmed by the time I left work yesterday evening that I almost smooshed my car twice. On top of basically watching but not really “seeing” the road, my head felt (and still feels) like a drum line has taken up residence for a half time performance to end all performances. Ice, Excedrin, finally eating something, popping my neck, stretching, and now having had sleep…nothing has alleviated the tightness and pounding that I can feel from the nape of my neck to right above my eyes.
Not everything was terrible this week. In fact there were some really fantastic parts. It’s just that the things that didn’t go right really went out of their way to go wrong. A mass announcement at the beginning of the week knocked me completely off balance, and then Friday hit, and all hell broke loose. Among the craziness, two weeks of effort to get something done was juuuuust within my grasp, only to fall completely apart at the 11th hour. I was so annoyed with it that by the time there was only one other person and myself in the wing, my shouting could be heard all the way at the ass other end of the floor. Which was stupid because it didn’t solve anything but made the throbbing of my head worse. It’s times like these that make me really wish I could live outside the moral code of conduct and just go apeshit on people. The ones that really anger me. If my id had complete control, well, I’m not sure I wouldn’t be in jail. I have no doubt that if I were to go to prison, I’d be the Piper Chapman (Orange is the New Black) in the group. Ha! This weekend is the halftime I need. It’s going to be all about recharging, regrouping, and re-strategizing. I don’t really have anything about myself to change…that’s not even something to consider. It’s about planning for the future, being prepared for what may be coming, while still being focused on the present. I feel like part of me got my ass kicked the past week. I wasn’t alone in it, though. My whole team experienced the same whooping. When I kick off my Monday, it’s going to be a re-focused me. The boundaries surrounding me may not change, but I will be better adjusted to work within those boundaries to the best of my ability. My game plan is simple enough. I am uniquely me. I have my Faith, my intact moral code of conduct to keep me out of trouble, and many awesome qualities. Nothing can take those things away from me, and I take great comfort in that. Which also gives me great confidence. That’s what the second half is going to see. A rested, refreshed, confident me. P.S. As I was finishing this post up, I heard my girls watching The Guardians of the Galaxy in the living room and the following exchange: Peter Quill: I can’t believe I got taken down by a raccoon. Rocket: Raccoon? What’s a raccoon? Peter Quill: You are! I’ve seen many of them, like you, on Earth! Rocket: Ain’t no thing like me, except me! Well said. |
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