On My Shoulders

Guys.

My goodness.

I've been busy.

This last month has been so wonderful, so exciting, so hard, and so tiring.

So many days I have felt overwhelmed by the task of caring for other people. It isn't the right way to think (and somewhere inside I know it) but I pile everyone up on my shoulders and promise to carry them wherever we go even if they didn't ask for it (metaphorically of course). I know everyone has legs and their own lives and they can walk through it without my help, but somewhere along the way I have rested into the notion that it all depends on me. The lives of so many people depend on me. And even if my legs fail, I will carry them until it kills me.

Well that is quite a burden to carry and it's rather impossible, especially considering that I don't have the time or energy to carry everyone and they don't really need to be carried. But I walk around with them all on my shoulders anyways as I cry out to my friends, "Why am I so tired? Why am I so overwhelmed??" They look up at all the people I have thrown over my shoulders and say, "Is that a real question?"

I'd almost forgotten they were there I've been carrying them for so long. But it's hard to put them down and run for myself.

So in light of smarter solutions I just decide to worry. Smart, right? And lately I've developed a trend of anxiety attacks which is so not cool. Sitting at a restaurant eating with Cameron, brushing my teeth at home. . . the timing never makes sense but my heart starts to beat too fast and I begin to freak out that everything is falling apart.

Failure, that's what I am afraid of. Control, that is my problem. 

I want to control things and fix them, but no matter how hard I try I cannot fix it. I cannot change things. And that feeling of helplessness, of fear, that lack of control makes my heart beat too fast as I sit on the ground in despair.

I don't want to feel this way. I want to be able to let it go.

So I put a hairband on my wrist as the wise Pam suggested and every time I begin to fear, every time I begin to freak out, I move the hairband to the other wrist and I say a prayer. "God, please take away my fears. Help me to trust in you." It makes me conscience of the pattern. It makes me create a new pattern. And I try to take a deep breath and be ok with the fact that I am not perfect and that's ok. I am not going to be perfect, I am not going to have it all together, and that. is. ok.

It's hard to be ok with being human.

I know the pressure I put on myself is all self-inflicted, so I think it's time to stuff it all in a balloon and let it float away into the heavens because my goodness. . .

Freedom > Fear

 Grace > Guilt 

I'm a work in progress.

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