I�m tired. I have been tired for a while now. My work is hard but at least I have a job which is more than many can say. I am a professional servant and I am often treated as though I am a second class citizen because of that. Still I am lucky, my Darling provides for us shouldering all of the financial responsibilities and providing medical insurance through his employer. I can�t imagine what life would be like if we were among the uninsured in this country. I could step up on a soapbox and rant on the topic but I am too tired to even care anymore. Nothing seems worth my energy now, I use it all up working and caring for my family.

Writing has gone by the wayside for me. When I find time I surf the net or do housework. I don�t even read anymore and I can�t remember the last time I read a book, last summer maybe. Too tired to concentrate.

Tears come too easily, temper flares irrationally, and I wonder what I will offer to my precious Baby Boy when I am all out. I can�t seem to hug him enough. I am not a physically affectionate person (just ask my closest friends and My Darling). I can count on one hand the number of times I hugged my best friend. My Darling fares better, but not as much as he would like. Somehow Baby inspires my hugs and kisses often. I scoop him up as he wiggles to escape my impending affection. I don�t want to be too tired for him, ever.

I long for summer in the hope that my energy will return with the warn sun. I am not overly confident but I try and think positive.

I read of Anna�s journey (wish I could link but lately the technique escapes me) and I wonder if I would benefit from a program such as hers. I see her exercising (I�m supposed to do that, but when?), going to a group therapy (without mental health parity within insurance benefits, the expense here is ridiculous) and writing every day, even if it�s just a little update. I�m not even sure the last time I posted and certainly I know I have shared nothing personal, no amount of the gooey inside.

My stomach hurts when I think of the future. As I skim through the daily job search I am more and more convinced I will never find anything (how could anyone in this economy?). I have a less than irrational fear that my paranoid boss will toss me out for no apparent reason but her own insecurities and I will be of no use to anyone, just a trembling mass of nothing.

My Darling asks me how I am and I answer �I�m fine�. Not a lie, I swear, I am fine, as fine as one can be in these times, when you have a mental illness and a daily stress level that exceeds your expectations all the time. I go to work every day I am scheduled, I grocery shop, I clean house, I make dinner and I do things for myself such as Tai-chi class and weekly trips to the thrift store. I am fine, just not well. I may never be well though. There will always be an irrational response to the world inside of me; it�s the nature of my beast. But today, like the rest of the days past, I will continue to do what I must to be fine.

The sadness that has hung in the air this long winter may be aired out like the closed in scent of the house as the days warm and the windows are opened to let in the sweet smell of spring. The gardens show signs of life, tiny green shoots from the many bulbs that have laid dormant waiting, as I have, for the breath of spring to melt away the cold. I crave the sun like an addict craves a drug. Without it I am a trembling mess, unable to exhale and relax. I am holding my breath waiting for the sun and the opportunity to hit the pavement, Baby boy in tow (or in the case of the jogger, in the lead). Exercise, free for the taking.

I need to breathe. Deep. And exhale, completely. I�m tired of being tired.

I wish you Peace

~alison~

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