Hitting a Wall...
I hit a wall last week. I wish I could say it was figuratively. I really hit it... several times. Unfortunately there was a picture there, and the breaking glass cut up my knuckles a bit.
It's so embarrassing. I haven't hit a wall in 35 years. Not that I haven't wanted to, but I've managed to restrain myself over the past few years when I've come close.
But not last week. I just snapped. And then I got hold of myself, explained to my boy who had been in the other room that my hand was hurt and went into the bathroom to wash the blood off. I tried to call Nicole, but once again she had forgotten to take her phone, and that's when I totally broke down sobbing. It was so emblematic of how it's been for us for quite some time... not having the support I need, her not being there for me, me killing myself to provide a safe haven for my family and tend to the needs of my communities.
And the picture I pounded and splattered my blood across.... a Maxfield Parish called Daybreak in which a youth leans over admiring a reclining woman - yes, that would be me.
It takes so much energy to hold it all together, and I don't take sufficient care of myself. Could get more exercise, do yoga, get massage, etc. I own TWO wellness center properties -- with over 70 therapists practicing all sorts of massage, body work, counseling, etc. and a sauna and hot tub ta boot! A friend suggested I may not be establishing good boundaries, and I suspect she may be right. I sacrifice my health too readily for family and community. I wouldn't be me if I didn't give. I totally identify with the traditional notion of husband/husbandry -- caretaker of land, family and community. But I could be better at giving myself rest and space for my own unfolding.
My sweetie was very supportive, patched me up good -- so I can go back out there and keep killing myself for her I suppose (that just came out; I'm guessing I'm a bit resentful.) I'm just on the edge these days, and recently she changed her days off -- which gave her more time off and increased my childcare duties -- without decreasing my work load. Bad boundaries. We're going to fix that.
We held each other that night and decried the utter failure of the modern nuclear family -- an institution that cuts us off from support and ultimately pits families against each other in this acquisition game of the morally (and soon to be financially) bankrupt consumer culture. We think we want to have our own stuff in our own places with our own fancy cars and freedom to go wherever we want whenever we want, and the result is we compete with each other for work when we don't have to... when we don't have to have so much, when we could be sharing more. Never forget that what you own owns you.
But that just sounds too scary (note melodramatic tension); like if we lived more communally it would just be too much of an imposition on our freedom, autonomy, individuality. Like we could actually be less happy! Yes, dealing with community (and family) can be a pain in the ass, depending on the measuring stick we use. But somehow I suspect we could all be better off with a little more commitment and a lot more community. I hit the wall because I sometimes feel so alone in dealing with all that is on my plate. To me, that suggests there's probably too much on my plate! Perhaps this consumer mess we're in now will inspire us to out a better way. Certainly hitting the wall has opened my eyes to getting more help. The pain was worth the message.
My boy has been sweet. Checking in with me to see how my knuckles are healing. He knows what happened... I'm sure he's figured it out. He's smart... he's got his own anger he deals with; and somehow he has been a lot less angry since that day. And I'm doing better. Taking time to go out. Arranging a massage with one of my therapists. Writing a bit (though it did take me a week to make the time to blog about this!) Ah well... we all do the best we can...
It's so embarrassing. I haven't hit a wall in 35 years. Not that I haven't wanted to, but I've managed to restrain myself over the past few years when I've come close.
But not last week. I just snapped. And then I got hold of myself, explained to my boy who had been in the other room that my hand was hurt and went into the bathroom to wash the blood off. I tried to call Nicole, but once again she had forgotten to take her phone, and that's when I totally broke down sobbing. It was so emblematic of how it's been for us for quite some time... not having the support I need, her not being there for me, me killing myself to provide a safe haven for my family and tend to the needs of my communities.
And the picture I pounded and splattered my blood across.... a Maxfield Parish called Daybreak in which a youth leans over admiring a reclining woman - yes, that would be me.
It takes so much energy to hold it all together, and I don't take sufficient care of myself. Could get more exercise, do yoga, get massage, etc. I own TWO wellness center properties -- with over 70 therapists practicing all sorts of massage, body work, counseling, etc. and a sauna and hot tub ta boot! A friend suggested I may not be establishing good boundaries, and I suspect she may be right. I sacrifice my health too readily for family and community. I wouldn't be me if I didn't give. I totally identify with the traditional notion of husband/husbandry -- caretaker of land, family and community. But I could be better at giving myself rest and space for my own unfolding.
My sweetie was very supportive, patched me up good -- so I can go back out there and keep killing myself for her I suppose (that just came out; I'm guessing I'm a bit resentful.) I'm just on the edge these days, and recently she changed her days off -- which gave her more time off and increased my childcare duties -- without decreasing my work load. Bad boundaries. We're going to fix that.
We held each other that night and decried the utter failure of the modern nuclear family -- an institution that cuts us off from support and ultimately pits families against each other in this acquisition game of the morally (and soon to be financially) bankrupt consumer culture. We think we want to have our own stuff in our own places with our own fancy cars and freedom to go wherever we want whenever we want, and the result is we compete with each other for work when we don't have to... when we don't have to have so much, when we could be sharing more. Never forget that what you own owns you.
But that just sounds too scary (note melodramatic tension); like if we lived more communally it would just be too much of an imposition on our freedom, autonomy, individuality. Like we could actually be less happy! Yes, dealing with community (and family) can be a pain in the ass, depending on the measuring stick we use. But somehow I suspect we could all be better off with a little more commitment and a lot more community. I hit the wall because I sometimes feel so alone in dealing with all that is on my plate. To me, that suggests there's probably too much on my plate! Perhaps this consumer mess we're in now will inspire us to out a better way. Certainly hitting the wall has opened my eyes to getting more help. The pain was worth the message.
My boy has been sweet. Checking in with me to see how my knuckles are healing. He knows what happened... I'm sure he's figured it out. He's smart... he's got his own anger he deals with; and somehow he has been a lot less angry since that day. And I'm doing better. Taking time to go out. Arranging a massage with one of my therapists. Writing a bit (though it did take me a week to make the time to blog about this!) Ah well... we all do the best we can...
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