By Megan Wirts
I’ve grown weary of so many things and I’m just plain physically tired. I’m tired of the arguing, the name calling and the pushing and shoving. No, I’m not talking about my kids fighting with each other over winter break. They actually had fun hanging out together, telling silly jokes, doing art/building projects and watching some of our favorite movies. Hello, Harry Potter Marathon! I’m talking about grown adults. There are adults all over the world arguing about everything. Not just debating, a good healthy debate is great and much needed sometimes, these are full on hissy fit inducing, immature, whiny baby fights. Except it’s fully grown men and women. You see it all over your Facebook newsfeed. It’s usually at the highest after a great tragedy, or an election, or a big sporting event, or a new law is passed, or an old law is challenged, or there is a dress that looks blue to some people and white to others, or there are dogs lost in your neighborhood, or a new restaurant or store is opening up, or the weather is sunny, cloudy, rainy or snowy and I’m just so tired of it.
I’m tired of having to talk to my children about horrific events. I’m tired of them asking me if their school is safe. I’m tired of feeling like I’m lying to them when I tell them that it is. I’m tired of wondering if I am preparing them enough for the world or if the world will be too cruel to them. I’m tired of people blaming everyone else but not accepting responsibility for their own actions.
I’m tired of winter. I’m tired of being cold. I’m tired of worrying about my kids getting the flu. I’m tired of cleaning up after everyone.
I’m tired of not being able to get my eyebrows threaded as often as I want to and having to wait for someone to find time to take me. I’m tired of friends cancelling plans and never making new ones. I’m tired of the color of my walls. I’m tired of thinking about how much work it would be to paint that wall (it’s a very tall wall).
I’m tired of missing out on things because of having dystonia. I’m tired of feeling anxious every time I swallow. I’m tired of feeling like I can’t breathe sometimes. I’m tired of not being able to reach out with my right arm. I’m tired of my hands cramping up when I’m decorating cheesecakes. I’m tired of my back aching and my neck feeling like hot needles are stabbing it. I’m tired of feeling dizzy. I’m tired of not being able to hear and asking, “what did you say?”, or just smiling and nodding because I didn’t hear a darn thing anyone just said.
I’m tired of asking people for help. I’m tired of asking for help and being told no. I’m tired of feeling resentment. I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of feeling like I eat too much. I’m tired of thinking I’m not good enough. I’m tired of wondering if I will ever be cured. I’m tired of people asking me for things. I’m tired of people not asking me enough. I’m tired of feeling left out. I’m tired of having to say no to things. I’m tired of saying yes too often.
I’m tired, but I will never give up. I will always push forward.
I am still here. I am still able to love, to care and to feel. I am not broken, I am just bent because those that cannot bend will break. When I feel the weight of the world and my body grows weary from the pain, I take a moment to be still. I take a deep breath, and I think about my amazing children, husband and friends that surround me. I think about beautiful sunny days spent on the shores of Lake Michigan. I think of the hilarious story my 10-year-old boy told me the other day. I think of the melody that my daughter sang to me last night and how she has the most amazing gravelly voice. I think of how much I love it when I see someone take that first bite of a cheesecake that I made and the way their face lights up and they are filled with instant joy.
I think about how my sweet friends will bring me giant bottles of vanilla from Mexico. I think about how much I love to hear the sound of rain on my roof and how much I love to feel the sun on my skin. I think about how I saw a sweet man carry groceries to a woman’s car just because it was the nice thing to do. I remember that time that I was trying to get down some steps at a basketball game and boy I didn’t know reached out his hand for me to steady myself. I think about when I was getting coffee and the women ahead of me paid for all the people behind her. I think about when I was waitressing and a customer forgot their wallet and was so embarrassed, but my boss just let them have their meal for free. I think about how my UPS person brings treats for my dog. I remember what a cute puppy my big hairy dog was and how he will lay his head on my leg when I am feeling extra anxious.
I remember the butterflies I felt in my stomach that first time my husband kissed me and how I knew right then I was going to marry him. I remember what it was like to look at my sweet brown eyed girl when she was brand new and wonder, “how did I get this lucky?”. I think about all the people that rallied around me and my family when I first became ill. I think about my friends that love my children as if they are their own. I think about how my husband has had to work so much harder and never complains. All of those reasons and so many more are why when I get this tired, I will never just lay down. I will keep moving as long as my body allows it and I will keep pushing forward. I will keep trying to make this world a brighter place and I will keep looking at the innocent faces of our children and know that is where our hope lies.
When tragedy occurs, we must remember that there are still good people in the world and that we have to keep trying to make the world a better place for our children.
Even when we are tired.
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