Being...

Here's something I've been chewing on for a while...

I've been really unhappy. (Shocking, I know- given my chipper and upbeat attitude of late, my general positive outlook on life, and my overall love of people in general) *ha

I'm actually amazed, given my recent personal reflection, that I still have any friends or family willing to speak to me at all. 

I mean, I don't even like me any more. I'm negative and uptight, and cranky, moody, bitchy, impatient, defensive, suspicious, accusing, and I'm sure lots of other not pleasant things too...

On one hand, I want to give myself a break, and realize just how hard it is to be sick, and getting sicker, over a long period of time. To lose hope, and become a cynical asshole who loses the ability to find joy in anything any more, or feel truly in the moment without fear or worry. 

To even begin to believe that nobody truly cares what happens to me, and at times to think perhaps everyone's lives would be better if i would just get on with it and drop dead already. 

I'm sorry, I know that's uncomfortable. But, it is what it is. And it is how I've felt. At least at times. 

I've rolled out of bed, and pulled up my bootstraps, and put on my game face, more times than I can count in the last year or so. I've repeatedly ignored my body, my heart, and my soul, in the cries for rest, recovery, and release. 

I've just continued to do what had to be done, putting one foot in front of the other, and getting from one side of the day to the other, and crashing again feeling drained, depleted, and like life has become utter drudgery. 

This... Is not living. 

But, we do what we do. We do what we can. And we do what we have to. To get through. To keep going. To move past. We just do. 

Until... We don't. Until we can't. 

And I can't. I can't keep doing... This. 

This... Is not living. 

I give everything I have, and much of what I don't, to what I think are the right things to do. 

For my kids, their education, their social lives, their entertainment and enrichment. 

For my husband, his business, his needs, our relationship. 

For my home, decorating, cleaning, planning, organizing. 

For our health, our meals, researching, preparing, learning, trying new diets. 

So much goes into a family. 

So much of it comes from the mother. 

I once wrote a post about what a mother was not... 

Here is what I've come to learn about what a mother is: 

A mother is the glue. 

She is the sticky goop that holds everything else together. 

Perhaps in neat and orderly rows that line up in perfect military fashion. Perhaps in the most wild and crazy haphazardly type mess you could imagine. Like marshmallow fluff melted and being mixed into cereal bars.

A mother is the root. 

She is the place from which the heart of a family grows. She is the source of the bringing forth of vital nutrients and life giving vitality, from the earth, from underground, from below the surface of what is visible to the usual point of view. She digs in and finds energy from some place deeper, dark, unseen. 

A mother is the voice. 

She is that quiet voice that says, everything is going to be ok. She is the nagging voice that reprimands you when you really know better. 

A mother is many things in relation to what she means to her family. More than I have the time or focus to reflect on here. 

But aside from all of this, the one thing I have been forced to recognize recently, despite thinking I already knew this, despite having heard it come from my own mouth on a multitude of occasions... 

A mother, is a person. 

She is a human being. 

I feel the need to say that again.

She is a human. Being. 

I have lost touch with my own humanity. In this silent march of strength and duty, to keep on doing what I am supposed to be doing- I forgot about the being. 

I forgot how to just be... human. 

Flawed, imperfect, ridiculous, and all the rest. Only I'm still all of those things. I'm so much more flawed by my constant pursuit of perfection. I'm so much more imperfect in my quest to meet some imaginary self imposed standards, for what? For me, for everyone else around me. My complete rejection of all that is as not enough- well that is truly ridiculous, at it's highest. 

I don't have a neat little bow to wrap up this post. I haven't worked my way to the end of it yet, and I don't really think I need to. I don't need an answer, a solution, a finish... 

Life is not like that. 

It's messy, it's confusing, and it's ongoing... 

And that's okay.