Every so often, PoorMe pops up her head. She peeks in for a status check, to make sure things are sufficiently depressing, and then wails in the other room about anything she can get her voice around. Maybe it’s the pile of dishes signifying what a poor housekeeper she is; maybe it’s the loads of unfolded laundry in the kitchen signifying how unorganized she is; maybe it’s the trash spilling out of the garbage can signifying what a slob she is. It could be a book-that-should-be-finished-by-now or an event that just-wouldn’t-work-out-right-now. It’s hard to tell what will set PoorMe off.
One thing’s for sure: a broken arm will DEFINITELY set PoorMe to wailing.
“PoorMe has to take showers at night so the cast can dry. PoorMe has to rely on help from others to get certain household chores done. PoorMe is tired from overworking herself and can’t get things done as fast as she wants.”
You get the idea. There’s more where that came from.
Last night, PoorMe was screaming in that compartment of my brain where I try to keep her penned in. She was pounding on the door and wailing in her best soprano. And all I could do, at that point in my day, was stand in the shower and cry as I said as much of a Hail Mary as I could remember.
Somehow, things are better this morning. The blessings outweigh the burdens by at least 50 percent. I can see clearly how the temptation for me is to quit, to let go, to be harder on myself than God is. I can feel how unjust I was…to myself. I am often hard on myself, but last night there was no loophole of forgiveness, and I was ready to disappear, to ask why I was even created, to chuck it all in favor of oblivion. Last night, PoorMe had me convinced that I was a failure at my work, a terrible wife, a lousy housekeeper (that part might not be so far from the truth), a sub-par mother, a horrible person.
But PoorMe is small again, and silent in her back room. What do you do when PoorMe pops up? Is there a special prayer you pray or something you do to remind yourself of what’s going on and that it’s temporary?
{hug}
Starving people in Africa, oppressed Catholics in China, those who live without water or electricity, neighbors with deployed husbands, friends with disabled children, moms fighting cancer, people burying parents, bloggers with broken arms…there’s always somebody who has it worse than me. That keeps PoorMe away most of the time.
PoorMe lives with me. She can REALLY get in the way most days. Living with a man whose job is to audit others and is a member of ‘Quality Management’ sometimes seems too much to handle. “Just because things at work need to be perfect doesn’t mean things at home are going to be.
I try, I try really hard. But, I don’t live here alone. I don’t dirty ALL the laundry. I don’t use all the dishes. I don’t create all the dust in the house all by myself. Now, I know TT may not seem old enough to help out but…kids LOVE to help. Sometimes I make a game out of chores. My kids began helping (at a young age) and they didn’t even know it was work!!
Take the help! Take the help! Take the help!! If I’ve learned anything it is if someone offers help…take it! Things may not get done the way you want them to…the towels are folded bifold instead of trifold like you like them but they are folded and not just on the chair waiting to be folded. PoorMe reminds me of these things but you have to send her back to her room. We know she’s there…she’ll always be. But you are stronger than her. : )
I’m so glad I’m not alone. PoorMe and I have been hanging out feeling miserable all morning.
I liked Michelle’s advice…although I am such a hopeless case that that never seems to work for me. It *should* make me realize my abundant blessing to realize that, as bad as things may seem to be, I’m in like the top 0.01 percentile of people who have it good in the world. But somehow it just makes me feel worse to ponder that. (I’m awful).
The only thing that’s worked for me lately is to use it as an opportunity to get closer to God, to remember that we truly can’t do anything without him. I just sort of throw my weakness at his feet and ask him to guide me through this moment, warning him that it’s going to get ugly if I’m left to my own devices. 🙂
Let us know if you find something that works, I could really use some good advice on dealing with PoorMe right now!
Gee, everyone here was so wise and all….
I was going to suggest that you shut her up with some chocolate.
I just remembered that I got some great advice about this here — check out the comments (including one from you!) I thought these were helpful.
I’m with barb,sfo….someone get this woman some chocolate, stat!!!
: )
OK, guys, PoorMe doesn’t stand a CHANCE in THIS crowd! If nothing else, the chocolate will keep her quiet… 🙂 Thanks for the support. Jen, I especially laughed reading that old post of yours, and then going back to find the post I had referred you to. Yeah, now, if I only LISTENED to my own advice…
Ugh…chocolate…why didn’t I think of that!
My husband usually talks me down. With the aid of chocolate, of course!