the trouble with yes...

I could barely get moving this morning, so weary from the weekend. I would have loved to crawl back under the covers and doze the day away... but life was happening, and I needed to get moving. It's been a while since I felt like this, and even through sleepy eyes, I send up a thank you prayer.
: :
This past September life caved in on me.
Perhaps the first warning signs came in whispers, but I was too busy to hear them.
Maybe if I had slowed down just a bit... or maybe just said no one time instead of shouting yes again...
But I didn't. I just kept on going, barreling through days and days of fully penciled in squares.
I just kept on going, until I couldn't.

The caving came in shortness of breath and red rash.
Gasping and scratching and buckets of tears... all laced around fear.
I wondered if I could stay home forever, in the safety of these four walls and his arms, because just the thought of walking out the door brought a fresh round of tears.  Anxiety, fear and me. It took me a week to realize that I couldn't do it all on my own. That maybe I needed... help. Because I didn't know what was happening to me and I certainly didn't know how to fix it...

It turns out, that some people do too much. I was one of them. I was selective, taking on only things that were important to me... things that were for my kids. Once in a while I realized that the things I was doing for them were taking me away from them, from dinner together, from the family life we have protected all of these years. But once I said yes, it was hard to say no. Until there was no longer a choice.
: :
A week or so ago I came across my fall notebook... the one I had carefully organized to keep up with it all, each section labeled with a sticky note. I peeled them off, one at a time, and ended up with a stack of six. Six volunteer jobs I gave up... and I still, on occasion, find myself running.

But sometimes... I have nothing to do but enjoy life.