Yesterday was a long one and I made it through most of class before the stomach bug hit me like a freight train. I had to give my regrets and scurry on back toward the lane. In between trips to the potty I talked to my mama long enough to hear that she is afraid to go home right when she is discharged. She made that choice on her own and after much soul searching, I give up. We have known for five years that it's not a safe environment for the two of them, especially with her disabilities. This last accident took away a lot of choice in the matter and it's not in our hands anymore. Typical for her, she spent fifteen minutes apologizing for undoing all of our arrangements to get her home and I had to reassure her that it's not a big thing. I'm just proud of her for finally MAKING a decision on her own. After that, the bug just got worse. I am out of moves and that seems to be where I end up every time I try to handle too many things at once. Nothing gets done right, and I'm constantly scrambling to put out the next fire. This is not a good way to be, by any means. I thought I was doing okay with the whole multi-issue drama but obviously I'm not and I honestly don't know what to do. That's when you punt, I reckon.
Big Ernie is trying to teach me something though I'm not real sure what it is at the moment. Self preservation perhaps? Being pulled in so many different directions is like having multiple personalities or something and very stressful. I try to stay centered and focused but there is no peace most of the time except in small moments when I just pretend that nothing exists but me and my ragged little soul. If I were a dog, I'd steady be licking my wounds. Last week I turned up for a grueling day sickly and still not well in the shoulder. I thought that I'd never see the end of it. In the old days I could push like that. Now, not so much. At almost 60 I'm a stroke waiting to happen if things don't ease up. Y'all pray for me on that one.
I really don't know who I am anymore because of the many different hats I'm wearing. Self awareness comes in fits and starts at just the right intervals to rally my spirit for the next few hours/days/other shoe dropping. Oddly enough, I've always been an optimist until this point in life. Now, meh. I could be the poster girl for good intentions gone terribly wrong and usually hurt myself in the process. It's time to re-visit that old recovery story about walking around the hole instead of falling into it.
So I know that you are all spiritual types in some form or fashion and pretty much know what's going on by reading between the lines of my daily ramblings. What I need right now is support, and lots of it. Prayers~Karma~Manifestation etc, I'm placing it all in the hands of one much bigger than me and those of you who care. Keep the faith ^j^
Many of us do that when we have reached the ends of our ropes, when what we should have been doing was putting it His hands all along. I am guilty of that, and I hope He understands. I am hoping and praying that you (and I both) get rid of our major stresses and can be healthy again. This ain't no way to live.
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