Ex....haust....ed....
***I actually wrote this back in May, but it was in the Drafts of this little old blog. And being that all of these things feel like they tripled in capacity since then...I thought I'd still share it. Things have changed tremendously for the bettter, with Maddox, with a pump, with a Dexcom just so you know. :)**
Well, here we are. While my plans were to continue to write and discuss many of things, I have written nothing. Zero. If possible, it may have even been less than zero. Like, I'm pretty sure that I was moving further and further away from ever writing anything. But that's life. I've come to the cruel reality of what exhaustion feels like. Of what the day in and the day out of constant stress, constant work, constant worry, and no sleep can do to a person. Which now, as I'm sitting down to my thoughts, I can only hope that the worst is behind us.
I have to first tell you that I am lucky beyond measure. Blessed is an understatement. We are very fortunate and the good things will keep rolling in; however, I'm going to throw myself a little realistic pity party even though I'll probably erase it all later. Why? Because I'm not great at sharing things that aren't positive or uplifting.
Diabetes is taxing. Financially, physically, emotionally, and even in ways that I had never thought of. It robs us of our sleep, our time, our energy, our days, and our nights. It's relentless. It is every second of every day. So throw me in there...a perfectionist who is relentless and doesn't stop...ever...trying to make things perfect and, as you can imagine, we (diabetes and I) battle head to head every damn day. I'm determined to not let the 3 year old boy miss feeling like an energetic three year old boy, with a mama who is not a zombie, who can cook, clean, pay all the bills, finish my PhD, work full time, and still be energetic-full of fun-hide and seeking-dancing-over the top mom that I want to be every second of every day. I give myself no breaks. I handle it. We handle all the ins and outs of navigating a very wish-washy healthcare system to get insulin and test strips and syringes and pen needles.
Except when I don't. No I handle insulin and blood glucose numbers and playing and dinners and fun. Yet, then there's nothing left. Nothing for anyone else. Not for me. Not for friends. Not for family. I feel worthless. Defeated. So in love with a little boy that I will do this until I'm 173 years old. Yet feeling useless to the rest of the world. All of my pursuits and research and life is at a halt.
I'm not giving up. I'm not giving in. This isn't an excuse. It's the reality and I'm only writing this because if you feel alone, tired, exhausted, or defeated, push on through because I am right here with you. It's a season of life and we will continue to choose joy every day.
Well, here we are. While my plans were to continue to write and discuss many of things, I have written nothing. Zero. If possible, it may have even been less than zero. Like, I'm pretty sure that I was moving further and further away from ever writing anything. But that's life. I've come to the cruel reality of what exhaustion feels like. Of what the day in and the day out of constant stress, constant work, constant worry, and no sleep can do to a person. Which now, as I'm sitting down to my thoughts, I can only hope that the worst is behind us.
I have to first tell you that I am lucky beyond measure. Blessed is an understatement. We are very fortunate and the good things will keep rolling in; however, I'm going to throw myself a little realistic pity party even though I'll probably erase it all later. Why? Because I'm not great at sharing things that aren't positive or uplifting.
Diabetes is taxing. Financially, physically, emotionally, and even in ways that I had never thought of. It robs us of our sleep, our time, our energy, our days, and our nights. It's relentless. It is every second of every day. So throw me in there...a perfectionist who is relentless and doesn't stop...ever...trying to make things perfect and, as you can imagine, we (diabetes and I) battle head to head every damn day. I'm determined to not let the 3 year old boy miss feeling like an energetic three year old boy, with a mama who is not a zombie, who can cook, clean, pay all the bills, finish my PhD, work full time, and still be energetic-full of fun-hide and seeking-dancing-over the top mom that I want to be every second of every day. I give myself no breaks. I handle it. We handle all the ins and outs of navigating a very wish-washy healthcare system to get insulin and test strips and syringes and pen needles.
Except when I don't. No I handle insulin and blood glucose numbers and playing and dinners and fun. Yet, then there's nothing left. Nothing for anyone else. Not for me. Not for friends. Not for family. I feel worthless. Defeated. So in love with a little boy that I will do this until I'm 173 years old. Yet feeling useless to the rest of the world. All of my pursuits and research and life is at a halt.
I'm not giving up. I'm not giving in. This isn't an excuse. It's the reality and I'm only writing this because if you feel alone, tired, exhausted, or defeated, push on through because I am right here with you. It's a season of life and we will continue to choose joy every day.
Comments
Post a Comment