I'm Tired of Pretending

I’m Tired of Pretending.

I don’t want to do much of anything, and I am tired of pretending I do and even more tired of pretending once I get to the thing I didn’t want to go to that I’m happy to be there.

There, I’ve said it.

I’ve been thinking about writing this. Then I would maybe have a good or maybe have a bad day…and I’d put it to the back of my mind. But today, for some reason I just started writing and figured…I’ll decide later if I share it or not. (if you’re seeing this, I decided to share it)

Those fun things you see me participating in on social media…it’s more likely than not that I didn’t want to be there. Likely I was wishing I was at home charging my batteries which are dead from the daily worry, fear, actual physical work, and stress of caring for people I love. Is it possible I’m not alone but people just don’t talk about this? I feel like a zombie...do you????!!! Does anyone else feel this way? I go through the motions. I get up. I get dressed. I put on make-up. I style my hair. I style my clothes. I change out my purse to the matching purse. I get in my car. I drive to the things. I hate it all. Inwardly I seethe with anger. I’m angry that I feel if I don’t show up, I’ll be disappointing those around me. I’m also angry that my highest self pushes me to go…” you need this” she says. And I know I do but I’m angry still.

I don’t want to have fun. Fun is not my priority. Fun is not important to me. My life is not funny or fun right now. Since November when my grandmother became ill and began showing mental decline due to dementia, since December 3rd when a tragedy that I cannot discuss publicly happened to one of the girls I mentor, since February 4th when my grandmother fell for the third time in a week and landed in Methodist Hospital’s Head Trauma Center with a brain bleed, since I realized…the lives of three people I love are forever changed. Since then, I don’t care about fun. Since then, I’ve been waiting for a lot of other shoes to drop. Since then,…my body has been stuck in fight or flight mode.

And I don’t want to change it. There, I’ve said it.

I’m not TRYING to care about fun. I’m not TRYING to forget that at any moment one of those shoes will drop. I’m not TRYING to “just move on with life”. What I AM trying to do is accept where I am in life. And where I am in is life a precarious place. It’s a place where I feel urgency to conserve resources such as money, time, energy because I’m not certain where they will be most needed, and when. I feel a strong pull to go inward. To be somewhat reflective. To access my powers of self-awareness. I feel a calling to stop admiring the problem, accept it, and look for solutions to move forward. Fun can wait. My social life can wait. And if we’re being real…I really used up probably a metric ton of carefree fun time in my 20’s. Man those were the days. Fun days. But I’ve learned…you can’t get those back. I’ve tried. I’ve spent evenings having too many drinks and declaring OUT LOUD…” tonight, I’m going to be 23 again”. 8 hours and too many drinks later I wake up in an alcohol induced anxiety attack. (This is probably another post…when did this happen with alcohol???). Next morning…I’m needed by one of those people I love. And I’m filled with regret because now I must do it feeling like hell which brings resentment. I keep resentment at bay by recharging my batteries. By saying no to fun. Not all the time…I save all the time for things that don’t fill up my tank AT ALL. I’ve learned a lot about boundaries during this time. So, if you’re like me, if you’re feeling like fun is not fun…my unsolicited advice is to say no. Just say no to fun…the slogan of the family caretakers, the worriers and the warriors!