I was in the car with my mother about a month ago, and I confided in her that this last year was extremely hard on me. I so rarely confide this sort of broad-spectrum weakness to my mother, it’s usually the moment to moment irritations and frustrations that she and I can find common ground with. She’s not particularly supportive if there’s not a definable problem that can be solved and I learned a long time ago that I’ll not find what I seek from her. Yet every now and then I forget and mention something and then wait in horrible, fascinating anticipation for her reaction.
She asked me if it was my new marriage; I answered truthfully and thankfully that it was not.
She asked me if it was my new job; I said no, not anymore. It’s been excellent recently, now that all my complaints have been addressed and I feel more competent.
I told her some of the things that had been bothering me, and then I added that things were not currently bad, it was just that I was so tired and overwhelmed by all the things that had happened and I hadn’t quite had enough time to feel like things had settled down to normal.
She said a few things that hurt my feelings, but I knew she meant well. And then I went into my house and went to sleep.
It’s been a month since, and I’ve spent the majority of it ensuring that every possible moment of free time has been the epitome of R&R. I have been on “vacation” from life. I “lost” my cell-phone, I haven’t cooked unless I wanted to for fun, I haven’t seen any of my friends, I gave up on planting the rest of my garden, I haven’t cleaned or done laundry unless it was a desperation measure, and I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time simply caring for myself.
I woke up a day or two ago and realized I felt a hell of a lot better. Not perfect, not bursting with energy and motivation–just better. And wow, is my house ever messy!!!
With a three-day weekend ahead of me, I plan on inserting some structure into my life a little bit at a time, and perhaps washing a dish or two. My wonderful husband is on board for this endeavor, and we’ll be, as always, happy as clams staying home and tootling around the house.
My half-birthday is on the Fourth. My family used to get me cakes on the fourth to celebrate my half-birthday, and even though the custom has gone by the wayside, I still have a private little celebration for myself in my head. At any rate, like new years, this time has always been a good time to evaluate how the last six months have been, and how I want the next six months to be.
We’ll see, we’ll see.