Don’t read if you can’t cry now
No, not this post. But it’s a warning I’ve used twice in the last hour. I keep reading stuff that makes me cry. Because there’s that kind of stuff around, like my friend who just lost her dog, or this piece on the ugly truth behind kill shelters (tl;dr: people who let their pets reproduce, buy rather than adopting, and discard them when they become inconvenient). Cats who die in the diabetic cat group I manage.
Yeah, animal stuff, because the human stuff is worse and right now I can’t take it.
I’m spreading myself thin, too thin, the not enough butter on too much bread thing. A lot to do at work, a lot to do out of work, and a slippery slope I keep crawling back up and sliding back down where I struggle to set aside time and space and peace to recuperate.
I’m doing OK, though. A minor (minor? major?) crisis landed on my lap on Monday, and I didn’t disintegrate. So, I’m still winning against the slippery slope. But I know I have to be careful. Very careful. And I am being careful. I’m taking active measures to slow down, give myself “default mode” time, curb compulsive behaviours. But it’s not easy.
And all around me everybody seems overworked, stretched too thin, running after time and bandwidth. Is it worth trying to resist, or is this just how life is?
Originally published at Climb to the Stars.