§ Music

Monday, March 18, 2002

Drowning

Every once in awhile I let one thing go… then another.  Maybe it’s the laundry, or maybe it’s paying bills, or sometimes it’s relationships or email or something else.  Then a new tide of fresh issues flows over me and I start to drown.  I become so utterly overwhelmed I start to shut down.  Instead of doing the wise thing and tackling each task one at a time, I hide away.  Sometimes I hide behind my computer monitor playing games or convincing myself that redesigning my website is “the same thing” as taking care of the things I need to.  Other times, I find a book and keep my nose there as much as is humanly possible.  When I was pregnant and had neither the attention span nor energy to bother with those diversions, I’d click on the TV and stare mindlessly at that escape.  The problem is, the more I procrastinate, the worse things build up.

Right now, I’m beyond overwhelmed.  I’m caught between wanting to sit down and cry and wanting to burn the whole fucking house down.  Not one single piece of me wants to actually deal with what’s going on. 

Sadly, it’s not like things are even bad or hard.  Nothing traumatic has happened.  There have been no floods or fires and nothing has spontaneously combusted.  It’s all a state of mind, but it’s a state of mind I seem to be unable to shake.  I had hoped that my sweetie would help me out a little on his weekend so at least some of this stuff would be out of the way, but it just didn’t happen. 

It’s odd, when he starts cleaning, so do I.  And in no time, it’s all done and back where it needs to be.  The problem lies in the fact that he only helps out with household chores about once a month.  He used to mop my floors and take out the trash once a week on a consistent basis.  Those are two very small tasks, but they were lifesavers for me.  If he’d take out the trash, I could clean up the kitchen. I could scrape plates and throw out wrappers and old mail, and while I was cleaning off the counters I could do dishes and wipe down the fridge, and since I was wiping down the fridge I could do the cabinets and walls and… boom.  Done.  And then while he was doing the floor, I’d work on other parts of the house.  Then, I wouldn’t feel so darned buried and could relax and watch a movie while I folded laundry or whatever.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I understand that I am lucky to have such a hard working spouse.  He is our only financial source and I respect and admire that.  However, if I didn’t exist, if he lived on his own and didn’t have a wife or kids, he’d be the one doing the laundry, mopping floors, cooking, shopping, vacuuming, etc.  Why, then, is it so ridiculous to expect some help with those chores?  Why is it so much to ask him to put away his own laundry or to load the dishwasher?  It’s utterly a frustrating situation that bewilders me.  Is it my right to ask him to help?  Am I being lazy and shallow in expecting it?  I’m not sure.  I really don’t know where the boundaries are, and I’m not sure that it’d really be much better if he did help.

Taking care of five people is hard work.  Lately, I haven’t felt like it at all, and more than that, I haven’t felt able to do it.  It doesn’t help that I have one child who won’t let me put her down, another who whines about whatever tasks I set him on and yet another who will outright refuse to help in any way, shape or form.  I’ve lost all control over my life, my house, and everything else and I can’t take it.  I’m getting desperate and really and truly need a few minutes to just be able to catch-up on things. 

And some motivation.  *sigh* Page 906 of 961 pages
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2002

A hodge podge of mixed emotions and other wierd shit

       

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