It’s the night before we are going to the coast. A place
called Whitby. I’m excited like a little girl. Though I feel bad at the same
time almost as if I don’t deserve such fun. Hub and I have spent so many years
going through life doing basic things so when it comes to having such good days
out, I just am finding it difficult to adjust. I also have a dreadful guilt for
not having my Son with us. When Hub and I go to our town, we go to the bank, or
to get a key cut. Bakers or may be for a coffee. Sometimes for a meal, but
things like walks that I know my Son loves and doesn’t get on so much these
days, I just feel as if I am missing something.
It’s mad as he goes out with Sham places and has done for
years so why is this different?
I think two reasons. Firstly, because as I said the last
time we did nice days out was so many years ago. About six. So, since we have
lived here we haven’t had such days. Where we used to live we had lovely days
out. And now here, we do have meals or like last week when Hub went on his day of
flying with our Son, but those kinds of days are very rare. In fact, that is
the first time we all three have done something other than go for a meal or to
buy a washing machine for example since we moved here. Where we used to live we
went all over, but here is so difficult.
I have always struggled in enjoying time for myself too. It’s
just something I have never done. When I was a child I did for my friends or
parents and then my ex then my Son and Hub. Our dogs, volunteering but never
myself. I wish I wasn’t like this it’s so crazy and if I was to tell someone
who was me for a while, I know what I would say, but telling my own head it’s
OK to do what I would like to do, is a totally different matter.
So, though I am excited, I’m shivering inside with guilt. Guilt
for what? Having a lovely day? When I write this down and Annalise it, I know
it’s mad. It’s like my Yoga, I really enjoy it and feel so much better
afterwards, but how many times have I done it this week? Twice. Why? When I get
down stairs, I empty or fill the dishwasher. Let the dog/dogs out. Wipe the
work tops in the kitchen and start to think about what I am going to cook that
day for the family. I normally come down stairs with a basket full of washing
to do. Or, if I put the washing machine on the night before, I hang out my
washing to dry.
Then I check my messages and mail to see if there is
anything urgent to do. And then my dog has a toy so I feel as if I should play
with her toys. And then I remember I had forgotten something from upstairs and
head up there. Whilst I am up there I may as well clean the bathroom. Sort out
more clothes to put in the next load or just tidy up in general. Then I realise
I’m really hungry so come back down and make something to eat. But don’t quite
get to eat it. By that point there’s either a door bell or phone call to answer
or something I have just remembered that needed doing, so I do that before I forget
again. And by the time I remember to eat, I’m shattered. So, I write as most
days I’m asked to write to someone or I write something for people who have
requested me to do so.
At last time to eat,
but hang on, Then the washing machine is finished.
Why is it that some people are like me and others just go
through life enjoying themselves? I look at some friends and I just don’t
understand how they can do what they do. I mean every couple of days they do
what they want, what they enjoy. What they need to do to get through their
life.
Firstly, how do they do it? Why do they feel different to
me? What’s all that about?
How do they even have the time?
I’m over half of my life’s expectancy now and still, I haven’t
completed me!
No comments:
Post a Comment