Before I we left, I. Was. Stressed. Stressed to the point where it started to affect my health. Several trips to the doctors, pharmacy, a basket of medications, several diagnoses, and even an Urgent Care visit - all from respiratory-related issues. Bronchitis, Asthma, Asthma Attacks, Infections, Sinus problems, blah blah blah.
The day before I left, I went, yet again, to see my doctor. She looked at my file and realized that I've been having health problems since April of last year. 9 months of health problems for a fairly healthy 30-something.
"You've been sick for a while now. Your body isn't healing itself. Is something else going on with your life? Are you stressed?"
That last question, "Are you stressed?" caused me to tear up. She walked in as my doctor but now turned into my therapist.
I began to break down my life for her: I juggle a full-time, highly demanding job. I juggle a home-life, where I get very little help, and I juggle to keep my sanity. I explained to her that I don't get a break.
"That's just my life," I shrugged.
My doctor was sweet enough to listen to me for what seemed like a mini-therapy session where I cried and I told her what my day-to-day was like. I explained to her how this trip is already stressing me out because planning it was stressful.
I was stressed. I was lost. I was helpless. I couldn't do it all.
She wrote me a prescription for some meds and at the very bottom of her "recommendations" list, she wrote, "Please find a way to be less stressed." I took that piece of paper and the thought of de-stressing, and put it in my pocket. After all, I had to get back to my crazy life.
We marched on with our travel plans - take the dogs to the sitter, pack, print out boarding passes, make sure we didn't forget anything. Plan, plan, plan. Move, move, move. Spin, spin, spin. The next morning, we began the Travel Dance where we rush out the door and head to the airport. By the time we got to the gate, we were one of the last ones to board When we landed in LA, there was more moving and spinning and hectic and chaos. Lots of things that you have to do when you do the Travel Dance.
The only "downtime" I had to myself was when we were flying, and that's mostly because Evie was napping and I was on Xanax. (I'm afraid of flying.) But while I was high on my Airplane Candy, I kept thinking about what my doctor told me: Find a way to reduce stress. At this (high) point, I realized that I am juggling too much. I hold too many titles: Mom, Wife, Worker. Human being.
A lot of people hold more titles and I should have no room to complain, and believe me, I'm not complaining. All I'm saying is that, for me, I can't juggle all four titles at 100%. I had already given up on myself and I was ready to give up more, specifically my job.
As we started our vacation, I started to relax a lot. I enjoyed myself and never thought about work. I was happy again. I could focus on my family and be the mom & wife that I wanted to be. But reality also set it: We were going on a very lavish trip where we didn't have a budget. We stayed at a hotel on Rodeo Drive, we dined at the Ivy and Mr. Chow, and we didn't even bat and eye at whipping out the credit card. And that was just a three day trip in LA. Then came Disneyland, boy did we spend it up there. None of it was possible without a dual-income.
The more time I spent vacationing, the happier I became. I started to smile again. My respiratory problems went away. I barely took my meds. My body, both physically and mentally, needed this vacation more than I knew.
So now this is my struggle: My life causes me so much stress and the only way to get rid of it is to go on vacation but in order to do that, I need to make money. Now I start to wonder: Would I be happier if I quit my job so I'm not in this vicious cycle? If I took away the cause of my stress, would I need lavish vacations to feel better?
The juggle. The struggle. It's real, people.
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