Typically on a Saturday morning we are at the barn, riding and hanging out with our friends. This week I have been out there nearly every day so today is a day off. It's unusual for us to have a quiet Saturday morning. It is quiet and we are lollygagging. There is always so much to do but it can wait. There are two days left of relaxing before we begin the mad dash to the end of the year, Christmas, finishing the second quarter and swinging head long into a new year.
Thus, I had one of my I'm-overwhelmed-feeling-alone-can't-breathe-holy-cow-am-I-really-doing-all-of-this-by-myself-all-the-time?!? moments.
October 13th was the last time I felt like this. A brisk walk with some tears followed by a quiet moment of being still, soaking up the sunlight while listening to the sounds of nature were enough to settle my nerves. Today I'm opting for letting the chores pile up while I quilt and watch movies. Which is a double edged sword because it is a beautiful day so part of me will be looking out the window at the leaves and pinestraw in the backyard thinking *i SHOULD be outside working in the yard*.
Some days I have to stop. Take care of me. And that has to be OK because who is taking care of me if I'm not? No one. Which is why days like this pop up. When I contemplate all that I am responsible for by myself, every day, all day, without ceasing, it's too much. I get lonely and scared. It feels hopeless and helpless. I'm wonder woman - brave, capable, strong, hard-working, loving, kind, vivacious, fun, happy, patient - I'm this all.the.time.
Some days I don't want to be.
Some days I want to be a helpless, hapless soul that is needy and clingy and desperate for attention and companionship and returned love, patience, kindness, happiness and strength. Some days I want someone else to do the thinking, planning, parenting, cooking, cleaning, juggling and fixing. Some days I don't want to be the only one that is available to trouble shoot the daily issues that pop up with two challenged teens and an energetic preteen and a geriatric lab and a yippy-yappy chihuahua and a 36 year old house and an 8 year old van and a yard full of loblolly pine trees.
I'll get over it. Today is just one of THOSE days.
Split pea soup going in the crock pot, quilting happening while laundry and dishes pile up, movie watching while the last of the leaves and dead straw fall from the trees. None of those things will kill me today. And neither will time.