Tired of being mentally and physically exhausted.
Tired of seeing people I want to talk to, and not remembering what I want to talk to them about.
Tired of forgetting to order medication, and then not lifting the prescription because I couldn’t find a parking space I could confidently put a tiny car in.
Tired of having no confidence.
Tired of anxiety.
Tired of turning down opportunities to make a difference because I can’t do any more.
Tired of justifying what I do.
Tired of forgetting important things.
Tired of letting others down.
Tired of not being who I want to be.
Tired of being overwhelmed by simple stuff.
Tired of being demoralised.
Tired of being a sensitive little soul.
Sick & tired of being sick for 11 years.
Now, there’s a dangerous question, & one that’s been in my head a lot recently.
I want to be useful, doing things, making a difference. I need to rest, recover, not get involved. Sometimes I balance competing demands. Sometimes I run out of steam & interest. Sometimes I want it all to stop.
I’ve spent years trying to be heard and in the process have become a usual suspect. I’m on a list somewhere, invited along to things, my opinion apparently sought. Of course I’m flattered, but sceptical. I can’t keep track of all the agendas in the room. I’m not being paid to be there- is it a good use of my limited energy, or a fig leaf for someone who has a boss?
I can read books and walk on beaches and ignore the world. That feels good for a while. Then I have to get back to doing the things I’ve had to fight to be able to do.
And I wonder if that’s the right thing for me.
Thanks to David Gilbert for the post that prompted ‘why bother’ https://futurepatientblog.com/2017/05/14/lets-talk-about-death-breaking-the-taboos-that-surround-suicide/
The Sunday paper is doing its bit to support my plans to read more this year. A long listy article on essential reading and a ‘Yes, that!’ piece, A novel approach to life
We all ask each other a lot of questions: “How did you sleep?” “Where did you go on your holidays?” But there’s one question I think we should ask of one another as lot more often, and that is:”What are you reading?”
When we ask one another that, we sometimes discover the ways we are similar; sometimes the ways we are different. “What are you reading?”isn’t a simple question when asked with genuine curiosoity: it’s really a way of finding out, “Who are you now and who are you becoming?”
I like to read- crime, humour, light romance, worthy fiction, memoir. From time to time I buy books I’d love to read but don’t have the concentration for (Richard Dawkins, Owen Jones and others who try to explain the world to us). I seem to live in hope that my brain will magically recover the power to read anything beyond short factual articles and easy reads.
Just this week I had to stop reading the beautiful Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver, its complexities too much for me right now. I will get back to it, eventually. (see above)
I enjoyed two humorous, twisty puzzly books: The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion & The Last Honeytrap by Louise Lee Each of these is part one of a series. Series are good for those of us with addled brains- familarity helps- but much as I enjoyed these two, I know too well the disappointment of discovering the formula too soon.
What are you reading?
The holidays are finishing, decorations are waiting for the boxes, schedules are reappearing from under the mince pies and wine.
There are no ‘resolutions’. We muddle through and do the best we can, even if we sometimes try to shift our focus to different aspects. There’s no need to resolve to do that; it’s “do or do not”.
Our ‘all the good things’ jar has started re stocking. I love this random collection of notes about good events gathered up during the year. We had several notes about Girl2’s netball team winning a regional competition, a note of clothes drying weather last March, and a reference to the circa 1985 souvenir from Knock sunvisor we were gifted during the summer. Not what you’d find in most of the reviews of 2016. We can go for ages without adding things, and some of the stuff reflects otherwise forgotten moments (Speccy lost some weight!!!) causing New Year hilarity.
I have a pristine work book ready to start the year. I love new note books, and always aim to be neat this time. That never works. I’m incapable of neat. Neat doesn’t have arrows and squiggles to join up thinking, or asterixes to remind me of the important stuff. When I grow up I’m going to take neat notes on a tablet, and know what they mean the next week.
Our charity has a million tasks to complete in the next few months, and, prior to the break I was feeling overwhelmed. How could we do it all? What would happen if we couldn’t meet the challenge? What if my brain stopped working and I couldn’t be an effective Chair? I’ve spent some time sleeping and reading and hanging out with my people and those issues haven’t crossed my mind. Now they’re back and I know I can handle them, with a bit of planning. I need to switch off. I need to read more books, listen to more music, take more walks, if the overwhelm is to stay away.
I can do that. Reading is good for me.
Happy 2017, bloggy buddies. Plan to be good to yourselves.