The problem with energy is that it can be depleted. I have good days and bad days. This is a bad day. This means by mid-afternoon, my bucket feels drained dry. I have a long ‘should’ list, but only tired, empty eyes to barely scan and acknowledge it.
The problem is also trying to remember why and how I got to this point. Well sure, it took years and years to really get to this point, but what happened just recently is lost in the fog.
I’ve heard fog referred to as fear, obligation, and guilt. My fog feels more like fatigue. So maybe fatigue, overwhelmed, and godforsaken.
Except deep down… I don’t believe that God has truly forsaken me. It just feels that awful some days.
Last night, he left the bedroom for some reason, maybe to let the dog out. I started to relax and drift to sleep; but as soon as I heard the door open, I felt a small, familiar clenching within. Then it became the usual ritual of imagining myself in a safe bubble of protection, where no ill will or resentment or unending need could touch me. Breathe deeply, slowly, and know that He knows, He loves, He cares.
So what happened today? I can’t remember clearly. I can’t remember everything. I know that during our daily business meeting, he explained in a calm, absolute tone kind of voice, that he ‘must’ spend $100.+ dollars on something necessary for work. Our eyes went to war. Thirty minutes later, I found what he needed for $11.00 online with free shipping.
Or maybe it was the chair he bought at Goodwill that he insisted he’d called and talked with me about.
Now, I don’t think buying a chair at Goodwill is really that big of a deal. Most of the time anyway. We do have those money famine times where even that is a big deal. The problem has been that he tends to want to spend money, and I tend to want to get out of debt and poverty.
He was adamant, vehement, that he’d called and told me. I asked him what exactly I’d said in response on the phone call. Silence. At some point, he slipped by saying it was one of our sons he’d spoken on the phone with, but then he switched to saying that he was sure he could hear me giggling in the room, so apparently, I must have heard it and giggled my approval. It couldn’t have been one of our two youngest daughters in the background. I must not know that my normal agreement consists of a giggle.
Somehow, between dealing with the gaslighting, teaching two Algebra lessons, dishes, laundry, making sure that the son with the TBI on an extended trip had actually called to reschedule his dentist appointment (he hadn’t), and figuring out lunch and dinner – somewhere in there – I lost the plot for today.
Except for this. Determined to move forward inch by inch, so here I am at the blog. I’d love to hide before someone tells me how simple it would be to change my life and be amazing, but I decided to appear in all the inglorious dysfunction.