It’s about me, but not really

I was a flaming a-hole today. Not that kind that comes from spending the day grazing at Moe’s. More like the kind that comes from being exhausted and stressed and beaten down by the daily grind that promises to exist as far into the future as I can see.

It’s hard, this existence. It could be a hell of a lot harder, but that’s hollow blessing some days.

Like today.

The way I hurt myself was by hurting other people. By being surly and unapproachable and mean and bitchy and less than the sparkling conversationalist I usually am.

There’s a very good possibility that the next day I don’t feel the way I typically feel will be the first day I stop breathing. When you come to that realization, it’s hard to see a circle of suffering that extends beyond yourself.

But it does. It affects my wife, my kids, the people I work with. It affects the guy at Publix who needs time-lapse photography to capture his movements as he checks out my four items with all the efficiency of a statue. It affects the jackass who had no clue where he was going this morning on Dale Mabry Highway this morning and decided we should all get to avoid being hit by him while he meandered his way to figuring it out.

Sigh.

 

On the one hand, it’s okay. I have Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME). I get to do that sometimes.

On the other hand, I’m not the only one. My wife has to watch a man she counted on, loved, and hopefully admired become a shell of himself. She has to watch the breadwinner meander through some permanent fairly scary health problems at a time she’s too old to start a new career.

My kids get to watch their father suddenly seem very old and wonder what that means to them.

My partner at work gets to watch as I miss things I normally don’t miss, and as I knock off early because I have to save my energy–all while she works late. Again.

It’s a hard thing to keep in mind.

To me, this is largely about me. But it isn’t solely about me.

It’s about them, too.

I’m lucky because they’re very patient with me. But I need to take care that I don’t take the patience for granted.

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Chris Hamilton

Chris Hamilton is a writer trying to make the next step, to go from pretty good to freaking outstanding. He's devoting himself to doing the work and immersing himself in writery pursuit. He also hasn't quite mastered this whole Powerball thing, and still has a pesky addiction to food, clothing, and shelter, so he has to work, too. Blech.

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