Well, my last post was about how our sense of self worth can't be based on our identities other than as children of God, because we will fall short and disappoint ourselves. And boy, did I do that yesterday! I had to put together an important meeting at work (weeks in the making), and my job was to not only participate in the discussion but to take minutes and record the meeting so we could refer back to the content later. All went well...until the meeting ended an hour and a half later and I realized I had never turned on the digital recorder. Aaaugh!
I looked at my boss and she was just shaking her head in disgust and despair...because this isn't the first time I've messed up lately. I seem to make small, stupid, but crucial mistakes every day lately. Is it "Fibro-Fog" associated with my Fibromyalgia? Is it cognitive impairment? Early Alzheimers? Mindlessness? Just run-of-the-mill stupidity? Or is it that deep down I just don't care?
Well, no, I do care about being competent and reliable. I do care what people think of my intelligence. I do try to do my best job at whatever I'm doing. But maybe---and this is probably the real explanation---I'm trying to do too much. I support ten people at work, whereas no one else supports more than three. I have a huge volume of work flying at me from all directions, and balancing and juggling everything for the past 22 years may be catching up with me. There's no chance to focus on one thing and do it well, because I'm busy lobbing a hundred balls into the air. Maybe my brain has reached saturation point and there just isn't room for one more bit of information. There's never down time to get organized and rejuvenate. Things are slipping through the cracks.
It's difficult to admit I've got more on my plate than I can handle. Up until now I've been able to manage just fine. I like being able to say yes to whatever is piled on me. Is that because I actually enjoy being busy? Maybe partially. But it might also be because I'm trying to impress other people. That's idiotic, and I'm not impressing anyone lately. It's difficult to take a hard look at your own motivations to figure out how you dug yourself into a hole. The truth isn't always pretty. And I don't like disappointing myself.
It's a good thing I wrote that last blog entry so I can reread it, because right now I'm feeling pretty lousy. I fantasize about dropping out of society, living in a hut in the woods, and foraging for my food. I compose my resignation letter in my head at least once a day. I imagine myself going berserk, grabbing my passport, and getting on the next plane out, no matter where it's going. I take note of small obscure villages where I could disappear to and no one would be able to guess where I've gone. I imagine myself baking an entire batch of cinnamon doughnuts and eating them all in one sitting.
Yep, definitely time for a break. But more than that, it's time to talk to my boss about scaling down.