Mother, mother thyself

I went to bed the other night at 9:30. Signed off. Lights out. Pillow over my head and I was gone. Done. Exhausted. I felt it was the only option. I'm glad I heeded my own advice because the next day was much better than the three prior all put together. But that's how it gets doesn't it, when we run ourselves ragged? Perhaps at least one of you can relate.

I've never been that good at taking care of myself. I find it much more comfortable to focus my attention outward. So it fits that I clearly remember a rather mundane conversation I had in the hospital with my nurse after having my first child. I think it was the first day still and I was so excited, keyed up, and asked for some Excedrin because I was getting a headache. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "NO. You need to go to sleep. Go to sleep."

I was a little taken aback, I'll admit. I didn't want to go to sleep, I'd just had a baby and wanted to stay awake for hours on end just staring at him of course. But she was right. What I really needed was to sleep. I was exhausted. Beyond tired. So that's what I did and when I awoke I was ready for the next thing. She was right as much as I hated to admit it.

I guess my point in all this rambling is that as much as your friends might look out for you (and they do--as much as you'll let them), or as much as your employer may say they care about you (maybe they do), and as much as your family loves you (I'm sure they do), it's really up to you to take care of you. Sorry, but that's just reality. Good news is it works. I felt great that next morning like I could do almost anything.