One of Those Days

Or, maybe one of those weeks...one of those months? I don't want to go so far as to say it has been one of those years, but it has been a bit rough lately. I feel exhausted. You would think having come back from a trip, I wouldn't feel so lethargic, but I find myself struggling to get my head back in the game.

At work, it is hard to reengage. Every day I go through the motions, doing just enough of what is necessary to keep up with what needs to be done, but my mind is floating somewhere off in the clouds. I try hard to focus because the last thing I ever want to do is a bad job, and so far I think I am managing. But, I am noticing small things, details that others may not see, that suggest to me that my grip is loosening, that all I have worked toward is starting to unravel. It makes me angry at myself for losing control, it makes me sad for those whom I may be letting down, and it makes me wonder how much longer I can hold on until things fall apart. Perhaps I have just reached a bit of a slump, that once I make it past this small lapse of attention, the situation will improve and I will feel invested in my work once again. Right now, I am clinging to this notion, that there will be a time where things go more smoothly, that every day doesn't feel like a battle. All that said, I still strongly believe in my partners, the people who make the wonderful product I do my best to categorize, organize, and the like. Without them, their good humor, their passion, I would find it very difficult to find a reason not to walk away.

Family life seems to be following its normal trajectory, currently on one of its downswings, if I were to be honest. My mom is sick again (she was admitted to the hospital on Friday); my sister is still recovering from surgery about a month ago, so she isn't quite back on her feet again. As always, outwardly I seem rather indifferent to it all...when people being in the hospital/getting surgery becomes the norm rather than the exception, I think it is one way to prevent yourself from becoming a perpetual nervous wreck...inside, waves of worry wash over me. There are also mixed emotions of frustration and helplessness. I never know what the right thing to do is any more. When talking with my mother, it sometimes takes all the patience in the world to keep my mouth shut...really, all she wants is for someone to listen and take her seriously. With my sister, I always get off the phone with the distinct impression that all she wants from me is a check that includes at least three zeroes in it. Sadly, sometimes to assuage my ever growing guilt, compliance is the easiest solution. At least until the next time it happens, some three to six months later.

On a positive note, there are lots of good things in my life, too. (Slightly obscured by the not so good.) First and foremost, I am healthy. I am fortunate to have good friends who care about me, even when I keep them at arm's length or longer. I have the time to pursue things I enjoy, whether it be baking cookies, reading a book about art thieves, or researching upcoming travel locales (I am currently debating: South America in February, Italy in late May, or, dare I say it, both?). Despite an increasing sense of despair, the rational side of me knows that I have the power to change it all. While I have no control over what others may do with their lives (and no control over how their decisions may or may not affect me), I can control what I do, and experience has taught me if I the choice I make isn't the best one, it doesn't prevent me from making another choice.

I just need to remind myself this over and over. So, if you pass me by, and I appear to be mumbling incoherently, it is probably me repeating this to myself. Whatever works to get through the rough times, right?