A snippet of life

Life around here has been, frankly, pretty up and down.

I'm a cycle of migraine, pain, exhaustion, insomnia, napping, laundry, migraine, napping, cooking, exhaustion, and well, I think you get the picture.

I feel pretty useless most days as I can't even accomplish a quarter of my to do list. Saying it's frustrating doesn't even begin to cover it.

I have things I want to do. I have hopes. I have dreams. I have goals. I want to be out and about and doing things.

And yet, I'm barely getting through the day.

I know, I know .... picture some sappy violin music in the background.

It's just, I don't know. I keep thinking I should be feeling better. Doctors exam me and can't pinpoint the one big fixable problem. Well, okay, there is the whole iron-deficiency anemia. And there is the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (which, I know, some people don't think is "real"). But that aside, doctors find lots of little things, that there isn't much we can do about. And if I just had one of those little things, I'd probably hardly notice. But all together, all at once, and life suddenly becomes quite hard.

There just simply isn't enough of me to last an entire day. Naps are required, breaks are required. Need help with 10 things? Well, pick the two most important because that's all I can give you right now.

Trust me when I say this isn't nearly as fun as it seems. I know, I know, there are people who would kill for a nap (or two, or three) some days. It's different when you are napping because you want to instead of because you simply can't stay awake no matter how hard you want to. Breaks are nice, until they are a necessity that slows you down. Getting that list of ten things down to two is heavenly, until you realize that there are really 5 pressing items on that list and you will simply drop the ball on the ones you can't get to.

And yes, I'm taking my vitamins. And yes, I'm taking my prescriptions. And yes, I'm drinking lots of water. And yes, I suppose it all helps. It's just hard to tell because it's sort of like my gas tank is at about 1/8th of a tank, and I can fill it up 1/16th at a time.

I'm feeling quite angry about this all. And my anger turns to frustration. Frustration turns to sadness. Sadness to tears. Tears to indignation. Indignation to quiet resignation. Mostly because I'm too tired to feel anything else and it's time to nap again.

In the midst of all of this, there is also some gratitude.

Do you know how often my family has complained that I don't do enough? Never.
When I say I need to nap because the shower I took just sucked all my energy out, do you know how many times they've rolled their eyes at me? Never.
Do you know how many times they've said "ANOTHER nap. Geeze." That's right: never.

In fact, I'm often told things like "You look tired. Go rest, I'll finish this up."
Sometimes I get a "Hey, how about a hug? I think you could use a hug. Because I love you."
And then there's the "Can I get you anything or bring you anything?"
We can't leave out the notes I wake up to from naps "Hey, had to run to the store. Didn't want to wake you, so we ate already but I've got a plate in the fridge for you."

How did I get so lucky? How did I get three kids who seem to understand I can't do all the things the other parents do and they just accept it and take it in stride. How did I get a husband who had no clue what the vow in sickness and in health would mean for him in the long run and yet, there he is, every time to pick up the balls I've dropped and when I try to tell him how amazing that it, he just shrugs it off because it's what anyone would do.

Except, I know it's not. I know we could be in a situation where there is anger and resentment and foot tapping and eye rolling and sighing and implications that I'm just not doing enough around here. I know this because I know people who found themselves in that situation.

And I think, damn-it universe, hasn't s/he been through enough? Can you back off of her/him please?

And I think I'm really lucky. Even with the pain. With the exhaustion. With the frustration. I'm lucky.

And yet. I'm not lucky because this all just seems like too much to handle at this point in my life.

This is the dichotomy of my thoughts. I'm so lucky. And I'm so unlucky. All wrapped up into one person.

I suppose this is the dichotomy of so many people's lives, even the ones who seem to have it all together. Because we all go through trials and tough times and heartbreak and stress. And yet we all go through love and togetherness and moments of happiness and beauty.

These are the snippets of my life: one moment in bed, trying to nap through the pain. The next, getting extra love from the family.

I try to remember this each day: this moment is fleeting. Another will quickly swoop in and take it's place. When I think I just can't do anymore, I try to remember it's just for that moment. The next moment I'll rest. And the moment after that I'll be up again. And when my kids offer me hugs, I take them. Because the next moment will find them running around outside with their friends.

This is how we go on in tough times: moment by moment.

When I was younger we used to sing this song "Little by little. Inch by Inch. By the yard it's hard, by the inch what a cinch." My goodness, if I only knew back then, as I sang it with all the power of my naive little girl self, how many times as an adult this song would play in my head.

Inch by inch. These little snippets of my life. They keep going and going.