he hardest thing to do when you're stay-at-home is take time for yourself. I get so stressed and so--well, depressed, that I don't take care of myself. There's always something else to do when your job is your home. It also doesn't help that I'm a workaholic, a tendency that seems to be part of the American character.
I've been reading Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much again, and this bit leaped out at me today:
We could only relax and take care of our personal needs when the chores were completed and the house had been straightened up. And when that was done, we were much too tired to do anything else. Cleanliness was always next to godliness, and many times godliness seemed very far away.
Godliness seems pretty darn far away today, I tell you what. I've got laundry to fold, dishes to do, children to feed. It's the day of rest but moms don't get to rest--or so we tell ourselves. And of course, what makes it worse is that though I'm medically retired, I have this site still, and money pressures. I get angry when I think about my disability, denied because my eligibility expired a month and a half before my cardiac arrest--and then I get scared about money, start writing and can't stop until I'm exhausted.
I can bitch about that, or I can do something for myself.