So... not a good couple of days. I think I may need more help than sympathetic ears and on-tap multi-generational snuggles. Can't really talk about it because (a) I already growled at my parents when they insisted that I tell them (b) mostly I don't know.
I do have a very strong feeling that my squeaky vocal delivery and my default-setting smiles are interfering with everyone's ability to take my weltschmerzen seriously. That and the suspicion that everyone has fallen for my protestations: Really, you guys! Really! Cooking and cleaning up after and chauffeuring and entertaining a family of six while prepping and teaching and grading three courses (90 students; at least twenty seem to e-mail me every day) is nothing. Really, it's easy!
The teaching and a houseful of family IS fun and I'm sincere about being grateful to be able to do it. Then also, feels like there is something I could/should do to care for myself--but I don't know what. Therapy? A drug regimen? More than six hours of sleep? Not caring if the house looks ready for the photo team from Architectural Digest every fucking minute? That the kids get assigned and balanced calories at every meal? What?
________________________________________
We're listening to the radio stories about 9/11 with tight throats and goosebumps. Amma breaks the spell with an earnest warning that none of us should go downtown today. Ourdowntown = < 3500 people. Any terrorist coming for us would have to be lost. Or a total underachiever.
_
I do have a very strong feeling that my squeaky vocal delivery and my default-setting smiles are interfering with everyone's ability to take my weltschmerzen seriously. That and the suspicion that everyone has fallen for my protestations: Really, you guys! Really! Cooking and cleaning up after and chauffeuring and entertaining a family of six while prepping and teaching and grading three courses (90 students; at least twenty seem to e-mail me every day) is nothing. Really, it's easy!
The teaching and a houseful of family IS fun and I'm sincere about being grateful to be able to do it. Then also, feels like there is something I could/should do to care for myself--but I don't know what. Therapy? A drug regimen? More than six hours of sleep? Not caring if the house looks ready for the photo team from Architectural Digest every fucking minute? That the kids get assigned and balanced calories at every meal? What?
________________________________________
We're listening to the radio stories about 9/11 with tight throats and goosebumps. Amma breaks the spell with an earnest warning that none of us should go downtown today. Our
_
5 comments:
For me, asking for and accepting help are the hardest things I've ever learned to do. I hope you're able to do both -- and get someone else to keep the house, too! :)
(I am on the therapy bandwagon: I say, do it!)
Thanks, AAL. I agree; I even got a referral, and then the expense put me off.
And yes, it's very difficult to ask for help. And also, whom should I ask? Everyone's balancing a fairly full load already. I guess the answer via Einstein and you would be to "simplify" :).
Woah, family of 6! Didn't realize you had more kids. Congrats=)
B.C.!!!!!!! How have you been? I've missed you!
And NO! I wish! But just the same two kids--the two extra family members are my parents here on a six-month visit :).
I'm in an entirely different state of mind. Light and joyful! New introductions to my life have been yoga, meditation & reiki!!! I'm back to blogging.
http://manifestmydesires.blogspot.com/
Post a Comment