Wednesday, December 17, 2008

All Scrooged up

For a long time now, I've felt like everything is such a hassle. From making a phone call, to making coffee, to getting together with friends. Everything seems like such a pain in the
a%$. I dread many of the very same activities I used to love. I don't think life is supposed to feel like that, but I don't know what to do change my attitude.

I'm always excited to receive an invite for a meet up ... until the barrage of e-mails starts. Where should we go? What should we do? What time should we meet? No one can agree on anything, and usually one person has to disagree about everything. So the flurry of e-mails ensues for days until somehow, miraculously, a decision is made. The same thing happens every single stinkin' time. I stay out of it because it exhausts me, and I truly don't care too much where we go or what we do. But by the time it all gets settled, I don't want to go. I dread the drive over and the conversations that may or may not take place. When I get there, it's usually ok, and I have a great time. But it's everything leading up to it. I used to look forward to a few hours with the gals. When did I start dreading spending time with them?

Instead of looking forward to spending Christmas with my family for the first time in four years, I'm developing coping strategies to get me through the day. I find myself complaining about having to drive to my parent's house on Christmas and then do it again two days later for a family reunion. I used to love family Christmas' and events, but something has changed over the years. I would just as soon stay home with my own little family than make nice.

Taking the peeps to visit Santa? Chore. I'm trying to justify not taking them by telling myself that they won't know the difference this year. Then I think about them looking through photos many moons from now and asking what happened to their pictures of their second year with Santa. And I will have to tell them their mom was too lazy to take them. How's that for motivation. We'll get them on Santa's lap before the big day.

Listening to other people's stories and problems? Can't stand it anymore. I still listen with the same polite, caring, concerned coutenance. But I no longer have the compassion for others that I once carried in my heart. Instead, I'm thinking, "Stop talking. Just stop talking. Please, please stop talking. Suck it up and stop talking. Stop whining." I assuade my guilt by telling myself that I'm not the only person in this world who does that.

I'm not depressed. I know that much. I've been there and done that, and I'm not suffering from depression. Maybe I'm just overwhelmed with life right now. I don't know where the mothership of this apathy is residing. But I need to figure out what's going on before the stranglehold it has on me gets any tighter. I hate feeling like this. I have too many people and things to be happy and thankful abut for me to sulk around, being irritated and angry.

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