Exhaustion

By Darcy Thiel

Yep, IΓÇÖm a day late writing. I know it really doesnΓÇÖt matter, but writing has been my Thursday thing for most of the past three years. ItΓÇÖs easy to write when I have a topic. ItΓÇÖs terrible when I donΓÇÖt have a topic. Now it is actually Friday night and IΓÇÖve still been staring at a blank screen.

Sometimes I have a topic, I just canΓÇÖt write about it. Especially in my later anger/menopause years, thereΓÇÖs a ton of things I could rattle off with my eyes closed but it just wouldnΓÇÖt be appropriate to do so. Those moments, IΓÇÖm tempted to start a new anonymous blog so I can write without any regard for anything. But you know IΓÇÖm all hot air. ItΓÇÖs just not in me.

Lately, there is only one topic that comes to mind and IΓÇÖm sure all my friends are tired of it too. (No pun intended, but the topic is being tired.) Exhaustion. Sleepy. Hitting the brick wall. The thing is, my dad seems to be too. We are both in the same place. Just want all this moving stuff to be over. I know itΓÇÖs not true, but right now I feel like I will never feel rested again for as long as I live. I will just never recover. Whine, whine, whine.

In some ways though, itΓÇÖs kind of cool that I donΓÇÖt really feel depressed. I mean I get so tired that I literally feel like I could cry at any second, but itΓÇÖs not because of sadness. ItΓÇÖs just because I donΓÇÖt want to move.

Around here, things are running behind. My client notes are backed up. My house is a bit of a mess. I havenΓÇÖt kept up with the yard work. Laundry, groceries, and just plain eating are all in a sad state of affairs. Every two to three days, I drive to DadΓÇÖs, which is about 50 minutes away. We clean, pack, argue, laugh, box, tape, load into vehicles, etc.,

Then I drive the 50 minutes home, knowing that when I pull in I have another two hours of work. Unloading everything. Then there is separating it. There is almost always a bag on papers to burn. There are boxes of garage sale stuff to pack up. Things to take photos of to sell on-line which means posting them on three sites. Usually there are a few papers to file in DadΓÇÖs new filing box. Some things are actually for our house, which usually means replacing something else.

And this just repeats itself over and over. We absolutely make progress every time. There is absolutely still so much to do it makes my head spin. I think my dadΓÇÖs head spins at times too. Legal stuff. Stuff for his new apartment. Stuff for his brief stay here with us. And the usual medical appointments and banking stuff that has to get set up or kept up with.

Mom has been gone for nine years now. But lately, it feels more and more like I am losing her all over again. So much of the house has her hand print. I just found some of her writing again that I read part of at her funeral. Dad and I have had some emotional moments together where we just have to stop and cry for a bit.

There is probably only a month left of this pace. At least I hope so. Have you ever been so tired that your eyelids hurt from keeping them open? Or your feet feel like they have lead in them so every step you take is like an effort? Believe it or not, IΓÇÖm actually not complaining. I feel good about doing this stuff with my dad. I think in spite of the occasional disagreements, we have gotten closer through it. IΓÇÖm just tired. ThatΓÇÖs it. I wouldnΓÇÖt trade it for anything, but I still wish it was over. Exhausted. Just pure and simple.