Bubbling To The Surface

For three weeks I have tried really hard to be supportive and understanding and patient and hopeful.  I have tried to do what I know was needed, and still complete the things I knew others counted on me to do.  I've tried to make the new-nonschedule work around here, and still make plans each day that I can cross off my list.  I think I am losing the fight.

I realize that in the race for being a "good" daughter/sister/wife/mother/volunteer/disciple (choose your word) it is more important that I am just moving forward--regardless of the speed.  But this weekend, I feel like I fell off the track.  All those tracks.  And I have not good explanation.

The daily to-do list of things never gets much shorter for me.  And maybe that is the problem. 

At some point I hope to come to an agreement about what is Good/Better/Best and just stick with the best parts of what I am doing.  But until that happens, I still judge myself on what I get accomplished on that trifold list.  Some things, like laundry or grocery shopping, have to be done whether I like it or not.  Other things, like mucking out the garden before the first snow flies, is just a good idea. (Though, that said, no one else even seemed interested in eating the tomatoes I grew in it this year--so why bother again?--except I look at it as an "obedience garden".)  Some things would be nice to get to but I never seem to have the time to get them checked off.

I know, none of this even makes sense.  Perhaps in my fear of showing myself too vulnerable, I'm too cryptic to let you in on the reality I am dealing with here, but that is probably just as well too.  I would probably hurt feelings if I just spilled the beans.  And that was NOT my intent.  I really just wanted to vent a little and record my feelings as they are for future assessment. 

I think I probably just need a therapist.