Quarts and pint pots

OK, it;’s just two days, but it is two manic days, involving too many trains, rather a lot of dashing round the countryside and attempting to shift my attention from one thing to another in a great hurry.

All while remembering to breathe, and to try not to get so stressed about stuff that isn’t mine to worry about anyway, so that I have enough energy left for doing the stuff that is mine (while, of course, not getting stressed about it!)

And reflecting on one of the train journeys with Brilliant Role Model about a)the personal cost (that she has paid and I haven’t) of having too many people demanding too much stuff and knowing that it can’t just be laid down because somehow it has to happen and b) the clash between what we tell those we have care of, and what we actually live (and guess which one people actually pay attention to!)

I like being busy. I like knowing that lots of people want me to do lots of stuff, and I am needed in lots of places. I like when people say “Oh yes… she’s always busy, I wonder how she fits it all in?” It makes me feel wanted and needed and useful – all things I value highly – and and drives me even further into the “yes, of course I’ll do it” trap.

It also makes me very very tired. And anxious. And less creative. And more snappy and defensive. And goodness knows I don’t need help with the last two…I’m good enough at that already.

I’m full of good intentions; I will say no more often, I will not let my self-worth depend on being needed, I will remember that I am a human being, not a human doing…

Well, maybe. But it’s baby steps. It’s a day at a time. It’s getting into the cycle without noticing, and then having the courage to move out of it – again. Without beating myself up.

Ho hum!

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