I’m tired, friends.
And, even in my exhaustion, I feel the need to clarify that this is not a post asking for pity or accolades or any response at all, really.
But I do my best to be transparent here, and that means sharing the good with the bad.
And right now, I’m tired.
But I’m still going.
If it gives you any indication of my current mental state, my Christmas tree is still up, the wreath is still on my front door, and there’s a cute little Santa sitting on the table on my front porch.
Yesterday, I posted on Facebook asking people to eat at our local pizzeria for the March fundraiser for the bell choir I direct.
Until someone wrote “I thought that was next week?”
Which it is.
I haven’t read a book in I don’t remember when.
And that’s saying a lot.
What’s it saying?
I’m tired.
But I’m still going.
I should also mention that I don’t want to hear anyone asking “Where is Real Man?” as I type this post, because he is working and spending a ton of time at his Dad’s house, pulling up carpet, pulling down wallpaper, sanding, painting, etc. And in between, he’s making dinner here and dealing with other things.
We’re tired.
Right now I’m part of the “sandwich generation.”
It sounds more delicious than it is.
The sandwich generation is the ever-changing group of adults who have at least one living parent over the age of 65 and at least one child under the age of 18, or are providing financial support for a child over the age of 18.
That’s me. That’s me. Oh, that’s also me, and me, and me, and me.
I’ve been mulling this blog post over in my head because I don’t want to come off as sounding whiny or “poor me.” But even as I write it, it’s how it reads to me.
And, with a very few exceptions, when people ask how I am, I say “Great, thanks, and you?” because I am mindful of not wanting to be the Eeyore in everyone’s day.
But, I think I’m not alone, and I think that most of us are just sucking it up and getting it done and not really saying anything about it.
And I think we are all tired.
As I mentioned in my “Turkey Driver” post, we lost my beautiful human being of a father-in-law in January.
Two weeks after we lost him, I wound up having to call 911 to take my Dad to the ER because he couldn’t walk, was hallucinating, and it was terrifying.
Turns out, it was a combination of dehydration and a urinary tract infection, which can be deadly in the elderly, because they don’t feel it.
(Take note fellow sandwichers…and keep an eye out for it in your loved ones)
He went from the hospital to rehab and for weeks and weeks, I did the “teach/play rehearsal/piano lesson/hospital/rehab/collapse into bed from exhaustion shuffle.”
And I was happy to do it.
I’m the only child of two only children.
There are no siblings, aunts, uncles, or cousins to go see or check in on my parents if I don’t do it.
And I am happy to do it.
I’m not sure my Dad enjoyed my constant badgering about the importance of staying hydrated and exercising, but now that he is home, he is on the bandwagon and is amazed at his own strength and stability and oh my goodness, if only someone had been telling him to hydrate and exercise all these years!!!
Ahem.
However, three days after my Dad was released from rehab, my Mom fell and broke her hip. She had to have a partial hip replacement and is now in…rehab.
So, the shuffle continues.
And I’ve used all my personal days for the year so that I can be there for meetings with doctors, etc.
And I’m happy to do it.
And don’t see my repetition of “And I’m happy to do it” as me trying to convince myself or me trying to convince you.
I truly am happy to do it.
I don’t want anyone to ever feel alone, especially my parents.
But I’m tired.
But I’m still going.
And, let’s be honest…the bad things aren’t happening to me. They are happening to the people around me. It’s not my tragedy.
I’m not going through rehab or laying in a hospital bed. I’m not relying on other people to do for me. I’m not having to relearn how to walk.
I am fortunate.
And I’m tired.
I’m also not the only one.
All of my friends my age are dealing with the same types of things.
And they are tired.
The other things I’m doing are all things that I enjoy.
I love my job. I love teaching.
But teachers are “on” all day long.
There’s no cubicle to retreat to. No office where we can go for a moment.
I’m on stage all day, currently trying to make the Industrial Revolution and the Age of Revolutions relevant and fascinating to high school students.
Love those kids.
We just finished play season.
Rehearsal until 5:00 every day, and all day every Saturday.
The kids KILLED on that stage and it was an amazing show.
Directing the bell choir, planning the summer tour, preparing for our concert in May.
I cannot wait to take these kids overseas.
Teaching piano lessons.
Every one of my piano students is a lovely little human.
It’s all good stuff and I enjoy it and am happy to do it.
Still, I’m tired.
But I’m still going.
I don’t even really know the point of this post, anymore.
I’m not complaining, I’m sharing.
And it’s okay for me to say that I’m tired.
And it’s okay for you to say that you’re tired.
We are all tired.
What I’m doing isn’t more than what you are doing.
Each of us are following our own schedules, battling our own demons, caring for our own families.
Still going.
And doing it tired.
I think the problem is that we all think we are the only ones.
We say “Great, thanks!” when asked how we are because we feel like everyone else has their *&^% together and we are the only ones who are overwhelmed.
We hide it. We smile. We fake it, thinking we just need to fake it until we make it.
So, take this rambling nonsense and know that you aren’t alone.
And, listen…
This year, we might break our record of not taking the tree down until St Patrick’s Day.
Hell, I might just leave it up all year at this point.
So, if you walk or drive by, or even come in…maybe don’t mention it.
But know that if you’re tired, too, I see you and you are not alone.
