You Know You’re Feeling Overwhelmed When…

I admit it. I am overwhelmed. I hit my wall and it hurt. Actually, what hurts appears to be a sinus infection on the left side of my head. I hope I can nip it in the bud without antibiotics, since I am not fond of those.

Word of the day.

But yeah, yesterday, as things kept coming in for work, as I kept being confused about the new way to do things and messing it up, as my team asked for support while my management repeated that what they want isn’t important, I also had to run a meeting, prepare the agenda, and be secretary for the monthly Master Naturalist group. And I had to start putting together another newsletter for Friends of La Leche League, even though we are losing members due to our broken e-commerce system. Plus, the deal with my older son decided to poke its head up and cause me to plunge into despair again (son quit talking to me and won’t say why, and even got married without telling me; I usually cope okay, just right now I’m not). And don’t forget I’m trying to help out with the family business when asked.

I am low on batteries, too.

I just took yesterday afternoon off and slept. That enabled me to get my evening stuff done. But that’s not a daily choice! It’s too bad that telling myself to take things one day (or hour) at a time, stop trying to do everything right when I’m confused, remember I’m just fine the way I am just isn’t working at the moment. That calls for me reminding myself that life isn’t an uphill climb; sometimes you fall down into a valley and start again.

I’m good with that.

What doesn’t help is lying in bed trying to figure out how to quit everything and just hang out with the dogs, chickens, and equines at the ranch. That, in itself, is a huge and overwhelming undertaking, as my mind firmly reminded me. I was just wallowing in self pity last night.

Then, when I woke up this morning, I realized I have the major PTSD over the events on this date years ago, when I was lost at O’Hare and trapped in Schaumburg, Illinois without my children (and the totally un-supportive husband who only wanted to get rid of me). Well, no wonder I’m not at the top of my game. I just need to accept this.

Good time to publish a post.

I think I’ll just do what I can at work, and psyche myself up for the one hard meeting, then go home and hug the ranch. This is only temporary, and life will, as always, have its ups and downs. Onward, and I hope, upward!

Acceptance of the New Normal

I’m betting the UU Lent creators didn’t realize the meanings some of their words would take on as the Lenten period went on. Acceptance is probably on everyone’s minds right now. As the Tiny Buddha points out, you really don’t have much of a choice but to accept.

You are so right. Tiny Buddha.

It very well could be that a lot of the anxiety and sleepless nights we’re dealing with today is from wanting to make things different, to go back to our old lives, to not feel trapped. But, that ain’t happening. This is what we have!

Perky little Suna, typing away.

Some days it’s easier than others. I realized with a jolt, just yesterday, that all this isolation, mask wearing, hand washing, and dread of learning the latest news felt totally normal, like it’s always been this way. It’s only been a MONTH!

I get upset with myself for feeling bad, knowing I’m lucky to have jobs that keep me earning money, at least for now, and am “essential,” so I can drive to work and back (for excitement, I take the OTHER route!). I’m not alone, either, which is a blessing, even for a hermit. I should be ashamed of myself?

At least I have a giant monitor. And blog readers, according to my stats.

NO! Every single one of us has had their lives changed really suddenly. Sure, some of us are dealing with different types of challenges than others, some are in more danger than others, and some have lost loved ones. But NO ONE’S grief, anxiety, sadness, or worry is better or worse than anyone else’s. I will do my best not to judge myself or others.

Accepting the new normal. The ranch is always here.

Support and kindness are what we need. If you need to vent, I’ll listen. And if I have to whine about how little I slept last night, my horrible dreams about my lost son, or my worries about others, I appreciate you for listening to me!

Keeping each other healthy means keeping our distance. It’s important. But our mental health still relies on our community. Thank you all.