Dispirited


 

Most days, work is its own reward, but every once in a while you want to know it makes a difference to others.

Lately, I feel like I give so much to others and no one ever seems to notice let alone acknowledge me. I've reached a point where I'm ready to throw in the towel and become a hermit.

Greg is Greg. I'm sure he appreciates me even though he rarely tells me. I remind him every so often that if I die first, he's going to learn real fast how much I do around here that he has no clue gets done.

As for the rest of the world, this could be an isolated case of acute burnout, or it could be just a bad time in my life. All I know is that if it doesn't clear up soon, I'll be giving up this blog and turn to more introspective pursuits. 

I'm not fishing for sympathy. I just want you (whoever is still reading me) to know that if this blog goes dark, it means enough was enough.

At least my cat loves me. He snuggles against my shoulder whenever he gets the chance. The jury is out on the dogs. They and the spouse constantly crave attention. It's exhausting.

Anyway. I'm checking in. I'm not dead, just dispirited.

Comments

nightsmusic said…
I know exactly how you feel. Exactly! And it was never so apparent to me as in the weeks leading up to my husbands surgery for his knee replacement. I was doing everything because he couldn't do it anymore, or couldn't do most of it right down to letting the dog in and out because of the steps in the garage. No more picking up the dog poop, no shoveling off the sidewalk, no picking up his clothes from the floor apparently because bending down was too hard, no turning off the lights as he left the room behind, and the detailed instructions for the two weeks leading up to the surgery with the cleaning and laundry and...yup, everything became an excuse to do nothing until I exploded. Talk about feeling like you're totally unappreciated. So I get it.

But that was all the icing on the cake building up over a lot of time of things. I told my oldest daughter that since I'll probably go first, she is not under any circumstances, to do anything for her dad he's not capable of doing for himself. Nothing. He'll be in for a huge surprise on what has to be done around here. Because as much as I love him, it's like living with a toddler that leaves a tornado's destruction in his wake.

I'm only telling you this so you know, I appreciate you. And you're not alone. And while I don't think anyone should start a mutual complaint society, sometimes you need to know you're not alone. It might not make you feel better, but it might make it easier to bear. *hug*

PS: The dog and cat love me because I'm the one that feeds them...
Mike Keyton said…
This was a shock to read, Maria. Deep down you must know how much you're loved and appreciate. but when the 'black dog' bites there's nothing you can do but wait for the wound to heal. It's good though to share your feelings. Well done you.
I'm really sorry to hear you're feeling like this, Maria. It kind of makes a person feel invisible, doesn't it? I don't know if this will help at all, but you ARE seen. :)
Angela Brown said…
Hi Maria,
I stopped blogging, gave up Twitter, barely hanging on to FB and Instagram and occasionally interact with friends and family beyond my daughter and dog.

I feel you.

In addition, I put a hard pause (still hard to say "stopped") on writing.

Sometimes you reach a point where you just want and need to focus on you and what's within your property.

For what it's worth, whatever you decide, know that you're a difference maker. You have shared a lot with the world and we appreciate you.🤗🤗🤗
Unknown said…
I understand completely. Bob has some serious health problems. We are having to move to Brookshire close to Heather. We have already put $ on a house. It’s really difficult getting rid of all the tools, gadgets and lots of extras accumulated over 50+ years of being married. Rodger and Gail Peterson are being a great help around his work schedule. Please pray all goes well. I wish you and Greg well. Love you guys
dru said…
I hear you.
Maria Zannini said…
nightmusic: I "had" a friend who went through exactly what you have. She died. And I'm still reeling from the loss.

She did everything for her husband and family. And while I'm sure they appreciated her, a little more help might've let her live longer. We'll never know.
Maria Zannini said…
Mike:
re: but when the 'black dog' bites there's nothing you can do but wait for the wound to heal.

Of all the people I know, you are perhaps the most articulate and profound.

Thank you, my friend.
Maria Zannini said…
Madeline: Invisible is a good description. Older people do become invisible to those around them, and women even more so.
Maria Zannini said…
Angela: Thanks, sweetie. I don't hear that enough.

I'd like to think you're only at 'pause'. Eventually things will settle down and you can go back to what you love.
Maria Zannini said…
Beth: Oh, Beth. I didn't know that about Bob. Private message me when you get a chance. Let me know what's going on. I know Greg will want to know.

re: accumulations
I hear ya. I always make Greg think twice before buying any more tools. It's time to start streamlining.
Maria Zannini said…
Dru: I know you do. You've had an awful lot on your plate lately.
Jenny Schwartz said…
Dispirited, yeah

(((hugs)))

It's been a struggle-stretch of years, hasn't it? Good people matter. You matter! words are so ridiculously inadequate - wish I could walk around your property with you looking at the signs of spring and just be happy.

(((hugs)))
Maria Zannini said…
Jenny: Today, internet. Tomorrow, teleportation. Though I'm afraid neither of us may be alive to see that come to fruition. Maybe in the next life. It would be wonderful to meet you in person.
Jenny Schwartz said…
Teleportation would be brilliant!
Lynn said…
I'm late -- read this post earlier while I was waiting for my work to print for the final edit -- and I wish I did live closer, never more so than now. Also needed time to think.

Honestly, the last couple of days here have been a blur. Trying to finish my latest, which hit a snag at the end and piled on two extra weeks of work (it's finally DONE.) My kid may be moving to Hawaii, of all places, for a year. Hurricane season prep awaits. The puppies are extra rambunctious and I never seem to have enough time for them. Blood tests this week, doctor next week. I think I'm okay but I don't know. I never know.

My guy is out trimming trees, and comes in wounded somewhere at least once a day to scare me with the blood trails. He's proud of it, while I want to smack the hell out of him. I'm so tired that when *I *got a nosebleed the other day I walked around for a good hour thinking I was just congested. By the time I realized otherwise -- well, trust me, that was not attractive.

If the blog goes dark, my pal, it goes dark. I'll speak for everyone here and remind you that we love you, and wish we could help. Just know that you're not alone here. I love you. We love you.
Maria Zannini said…
Lynn: What is it about men and battle scars? They're like the ancient Romans. The men weren't considered handsome unless they sported broken noses and scars.

I'm beginning to learn (from the messages and emails I've received) that some people have it way worse than me. It made me feel bad about feeling sorry for myself. Sometimes when the world gets crowded around me I forget to look at the bigger picture.

It doesn't help my situation, but it gives me a more accurate perspective on what's important.