I did this...

Forewent the GREEN chair today and just stayed in bed. Given how sweaty and trembly I just got from slapping together an enchilada to put in the oven, that's probably a good idea. I dread the thought of the work of fetching it when it is done.

I have been facing done hard truths about my failures lately, and my visit with Becky smacked me upside the head with another one: I don't know how to have
guests without feeling the obligation to wait on them, cook and clean for them, and go out and about with them as much as they want (even going so far as encouraging them to do the latter). I exhaust myself in the process. And the difference know us that my tolerance for pushing myself has greatly dwindled. So, by Thursday, I fear I was not all that kind and gracious. Foremost in my mind was how physically exhausted I was and how much constant pain I was in from too much standing. By Friday, I was a mess and even more desperate because I was grumpier than I have ever been with the wonder that is my friend Becky.

I simply do not believe anyone would want to visit me, knowing they would need to cook and clean for themselves, do their laundry, and go out without me if outings were frequent. Having seen how hard it was for her to push me at times, I don't believe anyone would really want me going out and about with them. And I don't believe anyone would want to visit me, knowing that I would be napping two or even three times during the day.

Only keeping up the pretense of being the great host really isn't possible anymore. I think anyone other than Becky would have gone running for the hills...maybe even by Wednesday.

It is a very good thing that Amos is okay with a puppy momma who can do little else but sleep, nap, and snooze. I cannot fathom, now that the pressure I put on myself to serve and be the great host is no longer keeping me upright, how long I will be recovering this time...more standing in 5 days than I would normally in probably 5 weeks and not a single nap.

I did this. Me.

I fail at asking for help. I fail at trusting. And I really only have a life in the GREEN chair with Amos. The price for pretending otherwise is becoming more than I can safely pay.

[Note:  I always correct the errors on my blog when they are pointed out to me.  This I first wrote on Facebook and, thus, could not correct them.  The wrong words shame me and they cause my fear to rise.  But I am leaving them in here this one time because I want a record of them, a record of what happens even though I spend several hours composing and editing a short piece. Before, this would have taken me just a few minutes to write...and there would be no errors.  But I am no longer that person.]

I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!