Caterwauling

Ah, the ever-quoteworthy “Grey’s Anatomy” rides again. …

There comes a time in one’s life when she realizes that she has spent so much time trying to save the world or, at least, the worlds of those around her. But, while she wasn’t looking, she forgot to take care of herself. And the wear-and-tear eventually starts to show.

For me, that day was yesterday.

And that time in one’s life? My 30s — the time when all of my friends have told me that your body changes so much that your mind needs to follow suit.

For me, years of overachieving and now oceans of guilt over not being as far ahead of the game as I planned to be or, hell, as I used to be have officially taken their toll.

I’m mad at myself for falling behind — and I’m weary at all the life events that I’ve missed out on as well. But I’m aware of all the steps that I skipped in the process, and maybe this is my time to go back and learn what I didn’t know then. And to make things right.

That said, it’s pretty bad when you’re in with your new physician for 10 minutes and you’re being shoved out the door with a purse full of meds and a list of workups they want to do because their diagnosis is that you’ve officially driven yourself nuts. Ha.

I’ll be fine soon enough. In the meantime, this is a grand opportunity to make a new beginning — time to delete all the 3,000 e-mails I had the best intentions of answering but never seem to get around to doing. Time to excavate/clean/pack the house, go on vacation, do that writing that always makes me happy, find my dream apartment, dust off the elliptical — and do it. Motion begets momentum.

Outstanding issues make me nervous and render me ineffective. I think that’s why I’ve become brilliant — nay, addicted — to multitasking. Because being super-busy is a wonderful distraction from noticing all that remains unresolved.

When you’re clinging to a life preserver, you wonder why you’ve held everyone in your life at arm’s length for so long — why you’ve been so afraid of really, truly being touched in every way possible. How you can offer up every single part of yourself to anyone to asks, just as long as they don’t stay the night. How you’re taken aback when someone wants to corrode those walls — how you’re even more stunned when you find yourself being anything but opposed to the idea.

I’ve spent my life being a book-smart overachiever. But whether it was my intention or not, I always wanted to fix the people and things around me — all the while letting myself collapse with nary a hint of wanting to preserve me.

For the first time in my life, I’m going to need help. I’m going to ask for it and even take it. And if all you can do is just love me, that could very well be what I’ve needed all along to help me to heal.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 28th, 2005 at 4:10 AM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.