Much ado about nothing

Not being able to do much of anything myself, and having to ask people to do things for me does not come easily to me. I don’t like it, in fact I detest it.

Don’t get me wrong, people have been great, and have been doing all sorts of things for me and my family (without us having to ask). Very helpful things that have made the last weeks much easier on us all. But it’s still really hard to let people do all of the tasks that I’m used to doing (and to accept that they’re not going to do them exactly the way I do, which is, of course, the right way).

I don’t like feeling indebted to people; partly this stems from the way I was raised, partly it just makes me uncomfortable to get so behind, if you will, because although I want to pay back everyone who has done any little good thing for me, I worry that I won’t be able to, or will let an opportunity pass, or will forever be in karmic imbalance.

But more than all that, I hate being dependent on other people. I’m used to taking care of myself, and other people, and now I can only take care of myself in the sense that I do as the doctors say and hope my body doesn’t betray me. But, let’s face it, I’m not really taking care of myself. My husband, primarily, is making all my meals, doing all my laundry, washing all my dishes, etc., etc., etc. A coworker is covering the tasks I can’t really do from home while I'm out. My husband is shuttling the kids back and forth to school, and camp, and play dates, my friends offering the play dates so that my husband can take a break, and my kids going to longer play dates more often.

It’s all fine, certainly not a terrible situation -- no one is sick, no one is dying, no one has suffered a great loss.

But I find myself on edge, and constantly having to remind myself to let things go. The milk does not have to always be rBGH free, the toilet seat does not need to be replaced this week, and the sale of my condo will go through without me going over there for a final walk through.

I’m successful at letting things go lot of the time. I really am, because, honestly, what alternative do I have? But when my ex-husband texted me today completely pissed off that I pulled the girls from swimming for the next 4 to 8 weeks (while flat on my back and unable to drive), the feeling of helplessness was almost overwhelming.

Take a burden off your overworked husband, get two-word texts from your ex-husband that read: Fuck you.

It stung. I’m really trying to do the right thing here.

I know I should just be pissed at the idiot for being completely insensitive to my situation, and I am pissed, but more than anything I feel powerless. It’s such a sucky feeling.

It will pass, all feelings do. I know this, and I eagerly await this particular feeling’s passing. But in the interim, I cry, just a little.