Sunday, November 30, 2014

Too Much.

I'm sitting here with a feeling of unease. It has been there for a few months, but the last few weeks most prominently. It sometimes exhibits itself in my mood, sometimes in my stomach in the form of nausea; sometimes it's a feeling of frantic excitement; sometimes it shows up in my bowels, sometimes in a feeling of anxiety that sits in the back of my throat.

Shit. I wish I could shake it. 

We have talked and talked about living meaningfully. We have poured over our values, attempted to live them out in our moment to moment choices, our daily acts, our monthly budgeting, our yearly assessments of how we're doing. We have made choices and changes in our life to incorporate and inhabit them. We've purged loads of unnecessary "stuff", downsized and moved into a community-living setting, changed the way we shop and accumulate, worked to love and accept and follow the path our Faith is at peace with, explored plans of adventure! We have done a lot of good stuff, and I am quick to forget it all in the face of one of the areas that I am still failing miserably. 

I can't seem to trim down on my commitments. I am doing too much. I am trying to cram too much into my life and am suffering, and causing my family to suffer, because of it. 

15 minutes ago, I left my crying 7 year old, on her birthday, having just taken her out with Ryan to a fancy tea house, having just broke her heart at the words, "I have to go to the hospital. My client is going to have her baby soon." She hugged me and held tight, crying that she didn't want me to go.

I am lagging way behind where I wanted to be in my schooling. I've begun an online study program to become a childbirth educator, largely to be able to remain working in the birth world without having to rely on attending births as an income. I am not able to keep up, because, for pete's sake, I'm human and need to chill out a couple evenings a week.

I'm pushing hard with homeschool, and as always, have this voice in the back of my mind that says, "Work harder, challenge them more, do more planning, be more organized!" 

I'm trying, oh so hard, to navigate my way through the 3's for the third time, as my little one is full of tantrums, strong feelings, button pushing, and a desperate need to cling to me and kiss and hug me frequently throughout the day. I want to enjoy it. I want to love her affection, but I am exhausted in body and mind. I also suspect that her intensity may be connected to some kind of anxiety or unmet need. Attention? Affection from me? Lack of mother patience?

I'm a good friend, and want to continue to be one, but when I'm so behind on everything else, how can I manage to do friendship well? I meet and have coffee with another mom and wonder the whole time whether I should be spending time doing this....I'm wasting time aren't I? My rational, smart brain tells me that relationships are what life is about, while my frantic, anxious brain screams "INEFFICIENT USE OF TIME!"

The community we live in demands time, and work, and kindness and love, and compassion and understanding. These are all things I want to give, but I find myself empty of resources to give. 

And now I sit here, waiting for the call that will send me to the hospital to do a job I love (desperately) but that will keep me up all night, only to return home and take two or three days to recover from. I long for my daughter; to wipe her tears and snuggle up in bed with her and sleep just so. I worry she is growing up and I'm missing the good stuff because of my frantic brain. I worry about that with all of them. 

But in reality, if I can turn down the negative self-talk, the shame and guilt, the worry and anxiety, I know with the deepest calm that they are okay. I may not be perfect, and won't ever be. I may not be able to do it all, but my family loves me and I love them. They know it, and you know, we have it pretty good. 

But this day, this past 24 hours of worry and discussion with Ryan and talk about our own personal shame has set me on a new mission. This mission is to list all that I have on this overflowing plate of mine, to rank it in importance from most to least, and to see what I can, nay NEED to, cut out. Life is short, and there's only one chance to do it well, and here I am, right in the middle of it. So as soon as I get off this here computer, log out of the blog editor, and turn the computer to sleep mode, I will get a pen and paper and begin my new beginning. I will prioritize. I will make changes. I will tell anxiety and shame to take a hike and I will remember who I am. 

I am strong, smart and pretty darn hot. (Haha!) I am capable of a lot, but I have limits, and they need to be known and respected. I am good at a lot of things, but that doesn't mean I should do them all at once. I am excited about a lot, but that doesn't mean I need to jump aboard every ship that passes. Limits. Boundaries. Delving deeper into the things I actually have room for. That is what it's going to be. That, my friends, will be my new beginning.

And good night.