The Silent Partner
The Daver is addicted to workahol. Massively, unabashedly addicted to the stuff. Most of the time, it’s a-okay with me. I’ve never been the type of partner that is needful all of the time, and hell, I should tattoo my forehead with a fat “Does Not Work Well In Groups.”
Besides, he loves what he does, and even if falsely I tried to claim that I had had a change of heart and now “loved nursing” (the career, not the lactation), my whole family would fall all over themselves trying to forbid me to go back to it. Apparently, working a profession I hate is bad for everyone in my family (mainly because I turn into a massive bitch when I’m unhappy).
I’m not sure if it’s the deadly microbes (dramatic much?) merrily playing in my body, or massive hormonal imbalances caused my impending menstrual cycle, but lately I just can’t hack it doing everything by myself.
Too many people (and animals) require me for their daily (hourly) happiness and depend upon me to make certain all of the “i’s” are dotted and “t’s” are crossed, and I am finding it all so very overwhelming.
I suppose, if I am trying to take a shot at rationality, that my illness has brought to the forefront of my brain the reminder that no matter what, my needs aren’t as pressing as anyone else’s.
There’s still Snack Day at school that I have to remember and prepare, violin that must be practiced (and if I am to be painfully honest, taught by yours truly), dirty diapers to be changed, baths to be orchestrated, dinner to be thought of, noses to be wiped, cat boxes to be scooped, laundry to be dried and sorted, cats to be fed, dog to be fed, egos to be stroked, and mail to be sorted.
And this is just a minor fraction of it all.
Such is life when you have kids, oh this I am aware, and most of the time it doesn’t get me down. You roll with whatever life throws at you, try to dodge most of the shit storms, and go to bed knowing that even if you are exhausted, you are happy.
Except when you’re not.
Except when the very thought of what the new day holds makes you want to pull the blankets over your head and try your best to hide from the day, hoping that no one finds you for a long time. Maybe they’ll forget about you!
Alas, like it or not, no one can forget you, because they rely on you, and you alone to do what needs to get done. Some days, this makes you feel powerful: just LOOK at how many plates I can juggle at once! And some days, you just wish that you had backup. From anyone.
Today I feel alone and impossibly sad, and my only saving grace is that I am hoping to wake up tomorrow ready to take on the day and wipe this shit right off my shoes.
So sorry you are feeling so down. We all care very much about you. I think I can speak for all your real life and internet friends. Hang in there. Let me know if I can help in some way.
I remember when I wrote you and asked if you were ever angry for no reason at all. You were incredibly supportive and now it’s my turn to lend a shoulder.
I feel like this more often than I want to admit. It does not make us bad people, it just allows us to realize we are human.
I hope the night brings the relief you search for. I know it does for me and so there is hope.
and, Becky….you are ALLOWED to feel like this, it’s alright…..
Boy, do I know this one. Bones is also addicted to the workahol, though I can usually snap him out of it by promising sex and pizza. It sounds like something is about ready to give. Perhaps its time to start eradicating the pets or hire a cleaning lady (I love mine).
(Or, you could finally send Charlotte over to live with me… or Ben…)
I am really sorry. Sometimes, it’s not even that there is so much to do…it’s that there is no NOT doing it. Which makes me hyperventilate and dream of running away. Do men ever feel like this? I sometimes wonder. But it does get lonely, just like you said. Perfect word for it.
I’m starting to suspect that this has something to do with it being January… cold and dreary for so many… because this sadness, this wanting to run away and just hide and not be so needed by everybody seems to be going around right now.
Hang in there.
(And ‘hi’ … I linked over from somewhere, and started reading.)
I am right there on the cleaning lady wagon. Mine is wonderful and very pleasant to converse with as well. And even if she only does the kitchen and bathrooms, those are two less areas that need YOU…
A cleaning lady is a marvelous idea; hell, hiring someone to do anything is marvelous. We finally found a babysitter and just *knowing* that there was someone who could help me out (so I could finally get a haircut, for example) put a kick in my step. A nice trip out for an afternoon would do wonders (surely Alex could sacrifice you for an hour or two … surely?). At any rate, I hope you do nothing today and feel better tomorrow.
Honeybunch, it’s more than ok to feel this way once in a while. It’s necessary. Nobody can live entirely for others, but it seems like that’s what we’re expected to do at times.
Do something completely selfish. Demand that the Daver support this. It will be good for you. Even if what you need is just to get out of the house and drive around aimlessly with a Starbucks for a while. It helps.
When I’m sick and/or crabby (pretty much all the time) I alternate between “YOU PEOPLE CAN’T FUNCTION WITHOUT ME!!!” and “nobody needs me. I might as well just disappear”.
Yup, that’s me, totally rational.
{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}
Hi there! My first time here…thanks for stopping by my blog to wish me well on my MRI. I appreciate the prayers! Thank you so much!
I will repeat what the masses say….I will also channel Michael Jackson “You are not alone. I am here with you. Though we’re far apart. You’re here in my heart…” Damn, that pedophile is a poet. 🙂
Nope … we can’t call in sick, can we? That bites the big one!!! 🙂
It is a strange combination of completely overwhelmed and totally bored, I find. Going back to writing really helped, because I felt exactly the same way.
And that my dear is why ya gotta love mom’s. As long as your kids aren’t serial killers, you rock!
I SO understand! There are days I wake up at 4:30 and spend the following 2 hours tossing and turning, on the verge of a panic attack, but refusing to get on up and moving. There are days where I am tempted to have a good mornin’ xanax with my coffee. And maybe “accidentally” swallow a little of that mouthwash with the high alcohol content.
Enter the guilt, because I do have a great life. I have two wonderful elementary-age daughters, a “new” husband, and I get to stay home, at least for the time being. Yet, there are days I tend to “freeze up” after I take the girls to school. I don’t feel like doing laundry, taking care of the house, scooping litter boxes. I feel guilty for not wanting to do my job.
I agree with the others on the cleaning person idea. Every few months, I splurge, slap down $100, and 2 ladies down the street smack my messy house around like nobody’s business. You get that “Hey! I’m ahead!” feeling, and it is great.