in which there is neither time nor space

in the dyepots

I am so damn tired.

If you ask me how things are, trust that half of whatever answer I give you is a lie. I have no idea how I’m doing. There is no room in my life for me to figure it out: there is no space, no time, no quiet. There isn’t any area of my life that isn’t in chaos right now: I have no safe space, no place I can go to, no refuge.

I’m not sleeping and I’m not eating. I’m not drinking myself silly, though, so hey, at least I’m not dysfunctional! WINNING. I know that statement is inaccurate, but given my family history, I still feel pretty pleased about this.

I’m not sure my “Am I doing okay?” test should be, “I’m not purchasing white zinfandel by the thumb- hole gallon- jug, so I must be doing okay,” … but hey, you know, in case you are wondering, I’m not. By these highly scientific methods, despite my a having a chronic illness, dissolving one business while establishing another, writing a book, working a second job, trying to pick up more writing work, dealing with the holidays, and dealing with the fire- I am still in a better psychological place than my mother.

I don’t want to give myself too much time to think about that statement.

I’m getting things done. I tell myself this means everything is okay, but even as I say it, I know I’m lying. I’m exhausted. Not that it means anything: I can’t change anything about it. I don’t have any time to be exhausted. Work, all work. All this weekend- yarn work tomorrow, yoga work on Sunday, back to daily work on Monday. When I’m not working, I’m working on things to do with the house, or the insurance. There is no time for me. There is no room for me in my life right now.

I am doing what I can to be honest with myself. I am trying to be gentle with the people around me. I can’t seem to extend the real, true, genuine parts of myself out to meet others, but I do everything I can to be kind and gentle and that’s all I can do right now, I think. I try to take the time and analyze my motives. I can’t seem to find the part of me that really connects with people, but I go through the motions, because I know it comforts the people around me, and most of the time they don’t seem to be able to tell the difference.

I find comfort in that, because I like to know that the people around me are comfortable.

I also find that idea so painful, because it seems to say that parts of me that were real- that were really me- were always invisible, but that’s reading into things and that is never a good idea. I’m too sleep deprived to address that set of thoughts logically.

I’ll wake up soon. I’ll snap out of this. I know I will. I’ll keep meditating, and writing, and working, and I will break through this. It will happen any day now.

Any fucking day.

  One thought on “in which there is neither time nor space

  1. nicole
    December 9, 2011 at 7:08 pm

    I haven’t commented in a long time. And I don’t know what to say to all this either. I just wish I could lean all the way across the ocean and give you a *hug* because really, that’s all I have right now.

  2. Gail Rector
    December 9, 2011 at 7:14 pm

    Dear valiant woman. There are parts of what you write that could come out of my own mouth or fingers, and parts from my daughter

    “I am still in a better psychological place than my mother.
    I don’t want to give myself too much time to think about that statement.”

    I love you, if I may.


  3. December 9, 2011 at 9:53 pm

    Come to AZ. It’s mostly quiet here. It’s quieter outside except for the dogs barking & the occassionaly coyote. I have girls under 12 so its rarely quiet. My girls are talkers too. So is the cat. The dog is quiet. I think in the two years we have had her, I’ve only heard her bark less then 10 times. 🙂

  4. Riaknits
    December 9, 2011 at 10:08 pm

    I haven’t commented recently because your words & your ordeals have struck a chord with me. Much of the same emotional turmoil you describe flows through my life now – as it flows through the lives of most of my friends lives, whether openly addressed or not.

    I’m sending you *hugs*, support & understanding.

  5. Nancy
    December 9, 2011 at 10:24 pm

    Wow. My heart feels your situation, your cry, your pain and your delight. Please don’t not eat and not sleep. Health – priority #1. Let go and go with the flow. It will get better. Don’t forget to breathe.

  6. Susan
    December 9, 2011 at 10:26 pm

    Seems to be a theme in the comments so far – Your feelings are unique to you, but many of us know where you are at because we have been there or are there ourselves.
    Keep the self-checks going. They do give you a bit of perspective.

    Really big hugs from one who gets it when you write about your exhaustion. Enjoy a 15 minute timeout for peace given from me to you.

  7. Michelle Lisenbee
    December 9, 2011 at 11:16 pm

    I know you don’t have time…but if you can manage an hour (plus commute!) please come for a massage…you can even just sleep on the table the whole time. I won’t be offended. 🙂

  8. huisha
    December 10, 2011 at 6:44 am

    I appreciate your true, raw honesty! You should know that GOD is a WOMAN! 😉

  9. Shannon
    December 10, 2011 at 6:54 pm

    I wish I could kidnap you for a week hiding out up here! xoxo

    • January 2, 2012 at 7:44 pm

      Girl. I wish you could, too.

  10. Nancye
    December 11, 2011 at 2:28 pm

    oh, I know the feeling. I hope you can find even a couple of moments to breathe. I like to find these moments in the bathroom or shower- I think as moms it may be the only place we can really be alone. And trust that this will change. And please try to sleep… our bodies need sleep to stay healthy, and without our health, the rest of it doesn’t really matter. Sending lots of light and love and healing energy and strength.

    A very wise woman once advised me that whenever I felt overwhelmed and tired and don’t know how to cope, to go lean against a tree. The bigger the better. For at least one full minute. It sounds a little wacky, but I find it really helps. Worth a try.

    • January 2, 2012 at 7:45 pm

      Nancye, that tree idea sounds genius. Thank you- I’ll have to try that. Just getting outdoors some might be the answer.

  11. December 11, 2011 at 4:26 pm

    I think the very best kinds of life changes are born from the very hell you’re going through right now. I’ve tried all the things you’re doing to get through periods like this, though in my nearly 50 years on the planet I now don’t underestimate the value of a really good distraction, because sometimes things just intrinsically suck.

    One thing I’m quite sure of is that something truly amazing is going to emerge out of all this chaos you’re experiencing. It’s just time. xoxo hang in there.

    • January 2, 2012 at 7:45 pm

      Transformation, right? It’s never easy. That’s what I keep telling myself.

  12. katyknits
    December 12, 2011 at 10:58 am

    Sarah, I wish there were something I could say to make it all magically work but just want you to know that I am thinking about you and appreciate you and your optimism. Not only for yourself but for others. Thank you.

    • January 2, 2012 at 7:44 pm

      Thank you, Katy! I’m sure we will get there.

  13. Kathleen
    December 12, 2011 at 3:41 pm

    I was so delighted to see you on Saturday! You are a dear brave woman and a deep inspiration to me because you are so honest and willing to move forward in life no matter what. Yours is a courageous spirit, thank you for sharing it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: