- Sick mom? Check.
- Laid-off brother? Check.
- Hubby who can't function due to intense back pain? Check.
- A multitude of Dr.'s appointments? Check.
- A long-awaited concert missed because of anxiety? Check.
- Sleepless nights? Check, check, ohsweetjeebuscheck.
- A big goal denied? Check. (Half marathon weekend. And I'll be sitting out.)
- Another big goal also denied? Check.
- A questionable health issue raised? Check.
Lest I come across as desolate (which, being dramatic, I'm happy to allow for effect and all...), I've had some wonderful conversations. Mom is fine, hubs is fine, and we're working on fine-ing up my brother. I have people who love me, a comfortable life, a (usually) good head on my shoulders. I've been doing my best to care for the folks I love in specific ways. Paying it forward, living the example. Don't ask for too much.
And I realize that these are first world problems. Had this confluence of events happened the March after my dad passed? Wouldn't have registered. Would not have mattered a whit. If I was struggling for shelter, for gratifying work, for the health of my nearest and dearest? This would all be shuttled into a dark corner to be revisited when time/space allowed, if it remained relevant.
But now? At this point in my life? This unlucky confluence has shaken me to my core.
I'm not a quitter.
I've always been rewarded when I've put myself out there.
I feel ashamed for failing, and ridiculous for being upset, and unsettled for physically being less than 100%.
I've never been one for needing to hit age-related milestones, but I'm finding that I'm freaking out because I'm not where I thought I'd be, in so many areas.
I'm frustrated. Big Time Frustrated.
And I'm also frustrated at my reaction. I believe that the way one approaches challenges speaks volumes, and the fact that I'd like to curl up in a ball with a big glass of chardonnay? Well, that's not the kind of girl I want to be.
It's giving me perspective on how hard is it to get up once you're down, and how that skill gets rustier the more comfortable we get.
Duuuuude, am I rusty.
I called mom (because seriously, if you can't call mom who can you call?) to vent/get some much-needed sympathy. (And my mom is killer at doling out sympathy that doesn't feel condescending...she's a PRO.) And she said that maybe I'm just in a holding pattern, waiting for something to happen. And that I need to be patient.
(She allowed how I'd need to figure out HOW to be patient on my own, because it was something she was still working on.)
So, even though the goal was to put aside the Poor Me feeling starting this morning? Well, I think that I'll do it for real tomorrow. Use the weekend to reframe, to get some perspective. Being helpful always makes me feel better, so maybe it's time to head to the Red Cross to donate? Maybe it's time to head downtown to cheer on my training buddies for the Rock & Roll Half Marathon? Maybe it's time to do some more focused work on the new site?
Maybe it's time to spend the weekend reading and eating my weight in Samoas? Hmmm...(don't judge!)
Or, maybe it's time to stop flailing around...to just listen. To let the cream rise to the surface and to discard those things that aren't working.
(In the abstract, that sounds bigger and scarier that I intended. Thinking small. Small changes in outlook = big results.)
What things are you struggling with?