OK, so I’m still chewing on this, and despite my DESPERATE need for sleep, I need to empty my mind a little.
Several years ago, while living in Vienna, Austria, I found myself sitting alone in my (cold) apartment, journal in hand, dumping all of my thoughts out on paper or pleaing with God over word documents on my computer more times than I care to admit. Here I was in this gorgeous, cultural hub, and I was literally paralyzed with fear. Fear of what, you might ask? Fear of the unknown. Fear of the cold. Fear of not having enough. Fear of getting lost. Fear of not getting things done. Fear of being rejected. I have always used writing as an exercise in brain dumpage in order to figure things out for myself or just gain clarity with my current state of affairs. During this time, I created notebooks of brainstorming charts, pros and cons lists, and even a worksheet that I so fondly remember entitleing, “Recreate Yourself”. After many dates with Anthony Robbins CDs and thought provoking Joyce Meyer sermons on CNBC and all the books I had read, I knew it was possible to change my situation…change my destiny…change MYSELF! I wanted to let go of that horrible horrible roommate called “Fear” and actually go out and LIVE my life.
I have always struggled with depression…although, to me, that seems like a rather elusive term. I think my biggest issues revolve around my own sense of self, how much I attach my worth to having money and my inability to just let things roll off. But I would say my biggest, most deep-seated issues revolved around my own fears.
Now let’s quickly fast foward to now. I am 37 years old; happily married to a wonderful man; have 2 precious boys; love my life. Is the fear still there? You bet! But now the fear is different. Now I fear for myself AND my family. I wouldn’t say that I’m paralyzed by it anymore. This is fear I can handle and I think I’ve left a lot of those ghosts behind thanks to all that journaling and praying and reading. But now, there are other things that grip me and pull me down and cast their heavy weights on my chest. One of the most pressing things is my own expectations for myself and my family. I struggle with this. I have tried to talk to people over the recent months about how hard it is to just slow down and let go of perfection. But you know what? I don’t think slowing down is as much a problem for me as I lead others to think it is. Unlike so many mothers, I like being home with my kids with nothing major planned, no place to go and nothing to do. I don’t mind not being intellectually challenged or the bread winner of the household. It’s heaven for me to be with my kiddos 24/7 day in day out. So, I’m trying to figure out what is gnawing at my soul. I think it’s the lack of time I get to be alone, with myself, with my thoughts (like I am now) and really process my life. I want so desperately to be present in everything I do and say, but I find myself so exhausted by the day or night before that I don’t have the energy to try and carve out this necessary time. It may be time to journal, blog, read a good book, do my nails, pluck my chin hair (yes, this is cathartic for me too!!), talk to my husband and laugh about this or that, watch a movie or show I’ve been wanting to watch. I just don’t have it right now. Do I know this time will pass? Certainly. But right now I just crave that time and don’t really know how to function from a place that doesn’t give me that time I’m craving. Yes, I do know that I could ask for help. I’ve tried that and it works sometimes and backfires others. I had the asking for help thing down pat when I just had one child. With two, asking for help seems a little more intrusive or complicated. I’m nursing, so I don’t feel like I can leave the baby alone for very long. When the baby is sleeping or content, I feel like I need to pay more attention to my other son. And I do. When both children are asleep, I feel like I should be doing the frantic Mommy thing. You know…the thing where we run around trying to accomplish everything we couldn’t accomplish when they were awake. This frantic Mommy thing usually comes to an end when one or both children suspect that Mommy is trying to accomplish something, enjoy herself or merely get some rest, and they quickly awaken to sabotage all projects underway. My husband is also extremely helpful. He is an equal partner who takes on parenting and doesn’t expect me to do it all by myself. He helps out a lot with my older son and gets him fed and ready in the mornings and comes home from an exhausting day of work and plays with him outside and bathes him and puts him to bed. He does a lot. So, when asking for me time comes to mind, I usually think, “Well, has he had “me time”?? Probably not. Case closed. Access denied.” When I think of other people I could ask for help, it’s usually a bad time or I am immediately reminded of the fact that they also have limited resources and lots of responsibilities too. Why would they be willing to help me out so I can rest or get a few things accomplished? Then there’s the whole “babysitter” thing. Yes, I do have babysitters I can call in a time of need…but that time of need can’t be on a school night or during the weekday (when I’m most vulnerable). If I hire a real babysitter who could come at the drop of a hat, I’m talking about paying some big $$ to do it, PLUS, by the time this brilliant idea comes to mind, the permanent marker is already on the walls…the cake batter is already on the ceiling…the poor dog has already had her hair pulled and been hit with a plastic golf club…and the poor 2 year old has already been screamed at one time too many times and come within an inch of his life! In other words, the damage has been done. End of scene. Time to move on.
I say all that to say that I am loving this life. I am happy. I am fulfilled. But my quest in my New Way of Being starts with something very basic — finding some time for self love, come hell or high water.
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