I've gotten so very tired trying hard to please others lately. This is not to get mixed up with not being able to say no, but the reason being I am required to give of myself above my own needs for my job.
A job I feel a bit inadequate to do and a resounding gong repeats the sound of doubt with each beat. I can't think clearly enough...too much fuzz and I am nervous about whatever growth we make will blow up causing reprehensible damage. Damed if I do, damed if I don't. Neither direction seems to bring a solution.
My doubt doesn't stay locked up in my office.......
No, it commutes home to my residence, personal life and married life. It makes me not want to serve my husband and give of myself. Right now, I want him to serve me. He see's my hurt and I want nothing but for him to run and rescue me where my happiness and joy is the only thing which matters at this moment.
Instead he comes to me wanting his needs fulfilled. When will he get the picture? Then guilt comes over me like a wave about my own selfish nature making me not any better than my spouse.
Yet I am called to fight the battle of apathy and indifference. Concerns increase with how empty I've become to this point. At just the right chink.....hairline fracture........will my fighting arm shatter because of the sheer weight of my sword? And others will speak in whisper to each other about what I did wrong and this must be all my careless fault, but not say it to my face.
Oh how I long to be poured into with overflowing joy and happiness again. My job isn't doing it, hobbies, weather, money...and not my spouse who I had hoped would ease some of the sting of life. I want to be a baby again where I did not question who would take care of me or my next meal. To be bathed and swaddled while a comforting voice rings in a soothing tone of, "everything is going to be okay."
My happy place is lost for the moment. I remember sitting on the top of the monkey bars watching the sun set over the metal jungle gym at the school yard. I would kick my shoes off and feel the gentle cooling breeze run its way through the cotton socks and the middle of my toes. This memory does not exactly come across as happy, but the thoughts or problems running through my brain could be easily forgotten with a Happy Meal or 3 day weekend with no homework or winning back the pogs I lost because of my pride.
I ask...when does being an adult get any better and what will be made with the rest of my life until I am called home?