Peas and Obligations

It began to get stronger around the first of the year. That old feeling of wanting to withdraw from everything, hide under the blankets. It's not constantly in the forefront. It comes and goes. But its always sitting there under the surface.

The feeling scares her. She knows she's supposed to fight it. She watched her mother succumb to it over and over until it was over.

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A while back she made the decision that she needed to simplify her self imposed obligations in order to not resent taking care of Austin. He's supposed to come first. He's the priority.

She dropped many things (attempting to make shooting a hobby, singing or playing the keyboard with the worship team, wanting to write something meaningful and getting it published - different from writing random thoughts for therapy on a personal blog) and she felt good about it. A relief really. 

Yet even after letting go of so many things, shooting, singing, writing, and even...posting every little boring piece of her life on the socials, there must be more to let go. Otherwise, why would she start spiraling over seemingly insignificant bumps in the road with her son. 

Like not having enough Gerber peas on the shelf when it came time to make his blended recipe last night.

When she realized they were lacking this ingredient at 9:00 pm, she felt a flood of guilt for not working out a time to go to the grocery store (she can't/won't take Austin) or getting the order into Amazon so the peas would be in the pantry, or at least on the doorstep. 

Obviously something took precedence. Something was more important. 

So here she is this morning reevaluating her life. Again. 

There's one large outside-of-the-family church related role that she wonders if she is supposed to let go. She wonders if she is supposed to be free of it, to let someone else take up the mantel. Maybe. 

But she's not sure how to walk away from it. She's invested so much time in it, and she does derive a small (large?) sense of pride and accomplishment when others seem grateful for her assistance in this role.

But maybe it's time. When she immerses herself in the related tasks, she has a hard time taking a break until it's done. It's one of those self imposed obligations to prove (to herself?) that she can manage this role and that she's good at it. 

That she's good at something outside the role of Austin's mom and caregiver (is she good at this role?...remember, no peas...).

She's supposed to make sure all of Austin's ingredients are on the shelf, or meds are in the bin, or diaper is changed before it's too full, or his position is changed before he gets skin abrasions or pressure spots, appointments are on the calendar and attended, therapies are appropriate and attended, etc. 

All of which are out of sight and out of mind when she gets focused on something else. 

So she wants out. Maybe. 

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Three days ago, she cheated on her very low carb diet and binged two days straight on Texas Roadhouse rolls, chicken fried chicken, fries, and lots of pizza. 

She's currently detoxing these poisons out of her body. 

That might explain this post. Maybe.

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“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.” 

― C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair