On the subject of Purpose

"Efforts and courage are not enough without purpose and direction." - John F. Kennedy.

Finding ones purpose in life is something everyone of us struggles with. Some know from an very early age what they hope to achieve. Others are happy to drift through life from one purpose to another. Some are tormented trying to find a sense of meaning or purpose in anything that happens to them.

I was one of the "lucky" ones that found my purpose, my calling, as it were.

And then it was gone.

I started out at a very early age knowing that I wanted to help. I was a helper. A fixer. When I was very young I planned to be a doctor during the day, a veterinarian at night and a ballerina on the weekends. Big dreams. As I grew, it kinda scaled back to becoming a nurse. Still a big dream, but with a much healthier space left for a family and a social life.

Then I let getting married at 18 and having 3 kids during my 20s change my purpose again. Raising my kids and having a job that allowed me to not need a sitter.

Then everything came full circle again. After a bad marriage, a chaotic divorce, my kids reaching an age where they were capable of wiping their own butts, and getting my new blended family, um, blended: I finally found my way back to purposefully pursuing becoming a nurse.

Things were great. I went to school while I worked full time as a CNA. I managed to be an honor roll student. I was a veritable superhero.

Then we all know what happened next.

So here I am for the first time in a looong time, with no clear purpose.

Before, even though my purpose had changed, I still had a purpose. I still had a plan. A dream. A goal.

My kids are all well on their way to being capable and amazing adults. So their need for me has greatly diminished.

My husband doesn't need me to run his life. He is a smart man, a great cook, can wash his own clothes, and even remember people's birthdays without me reminding him. This is all fantastic, except that for a carer and fixer like me, it leaves nothing to "fix".

My career gave me purpose. It let be important. It let me care for people. It let me be a carer by day and have my nights with self sufficient family. Without it I have an immense overflow.

At first, I used this overflow to do some much needed self care. I finally did things that I had put off in favor of caring for others.

Then, when I was fairly satisfied with the amount of energy I had pointed at myself, I poured it into rescuing animals. I am quite proud of my mini menagerie. I know I have made a difference in my cats' and dog's lives. But there is far less energy needed even there now. The puppy is not a puppy anymore, but a housetrained registered service dog. The cats are no longer kittens. They have their hierarchy. And let's be real, aside from walkies, litter changing and feeding, cats and dogs both sleep 16 hours a day. I am sure I needed them, way more than they needed me.

So what do I do with my overflow now? I can't keep adopting puppies and kittens. Trust me I asked my husband (again) today. Thankfully (and frustratingly) he has way more sense about these things than I do.

The aforementioned kids are all teenagers. They come in the house and disappear into their rooms to do cool/sulky teenage things, just like I did at their age. They are pretty good at not starving to death too.

I have even tried volunteering. When you can't count on your body to let you keep plans and appointments, you are not very useful for volunteer work. Most places want and deserve a weekly or monthly commitment.

I am not a "lady who lunches", a religious zealot, a free and unattached back-packer trekking across Europe, or a rich trophy wife that can take the yacht out for a quick zip towards Cabo for a weekend.

So where is my purpose now? I am open to suggestions. Until I find it, I'll be here, browsing the animal foundation website, and cooing over the faces of puppies and kitties that don't need me as much as I want them.

Pain:Guilt ratio

I find myself today, like many days, at odds with myself.

Trying to sort through the pain to guilt ratio. That is to say, how much pain do I have to be in before I can stop feeling guilty for needing time to rest, or help doing things?

This guilt is not being imposed on me by anyone outside of myself. You would think being a logical human I could just "logic" it away. It does not work that way.

A logical person says things like, "Surely, I am as worthy as any other human, of kindness and help." "There are people out there who take things that don't belong to them with no guilt at all! Resting when you really need it isn't guilt worthy!"

I have been in such pain for the past week or so now that I have reached a point that is beyond reason.

In this place you are driven to insurmountable pangs of guilt and regret by simple things. Things like asking your daughter to walk the dog. Not driving your husband to work because your shoulders hurt so bad that the simple act of turning the steering wheel is excruciating. Laying in a dark room under the effects of oxycodone, which incidentally barely takes the edge off the pain but makes me loopy enough to be useless, is a capital crime.

Today I live at that point beyond reason. Today my husband told me they cancelled his second interview for a promotion he wanted. They cancelled it because of me. Last Friday I drove to meet him for lunch because I missed him. Pain and all. When he saw the condition I was in he left work early to take me home and take care of me. This act simultaneously made him indispensable to me, but a liability to them.

You can't imagine the guilt I feel. I am lying in the dark, loopy, in pain and feeling so much guilt that I have rendered myself useless in my own mind.

Everyone's life would be better without me today.

Depression is not a new symptom for those of us who suffer a chronic illness. Treating depression becomes part of a plan of care if your Dr is worth their salt.

But this guilt has a clear and reasonable cause. Action A led to Consequence B and Action A is all my fault. So what do we do with those types of guilt? When the ones we love are hurt because of caring for a chronically ill person?

So today I find myself on losing end of that pain:guilt ratio.