'Remember, detachment means separating yourself from other people's behavior.'~read in online article
I've already written the quote above in one of my journals, and might write it on the white board I use during the day as well. I absorb ideas, thoughts, news, sob stories, you name it. I drink it in, take it as my own and pay for it later.
This week we (or rather, two of my girls) watched the son of a friend for a few hours. Sweet folks, but lots of baggage. A mental drain. My girls were exhausted afterward, but they'd not admit it. The next morning they both slept in, a healing sleep. I'm more aware of how life can beat up on a person, depleting already-thin energy levels. And while I deeply want to be available for this young family, my own extended family has so worn me out that I can't do what I used to do. The ability to 'do' just ain't there.
We can help, but not frequently, and not all the time. And sadly, sometimes what I want to do isn't what I need to do. I want to help; I need to say no.
I've discovered that I can do one major thing a day. One outing, one trip to the library, one grocery store visit. One. More and I'm panting the next day. Chores. Bet if I substituted pleasurable things for the busy work I could maybe do more things. But I rarely do that. My fun quota is way low.
In bed now, resting. Round two of going to my mom's soon. I have to put on my big boy pants when I go over there. She's sweet and all, but I just don't cherish our time together. Wish I did. Thankfully our youngest son is good to spend Friday afternoons with her, just keeping her company. I don't know how he does it. Amazing, really. The girls and I will pick up a few more things she needs, tidy her house, change the bed and head back here.
And more rest.