A Little Bit Needy

I can barely keep my eyes open. My body is begging for sleep. It’s a desperate need that verges on panic, but I swallow it down, take a deep breath, and keep going. As much as I want it—no, need it— the sweet release of slumber will have to wait. I can’t give in, not yet, and you know what?

I haven’t been this happy in almost a year.

The last two weeks have been a bit of blur, and more chaotic than I’m used to. After a year of medical treatments, I’ve adopted a relatively sedate lifestyle. Recovery mode has been in full effect. Energy conservation has been a top priority. I’ve had to allocate every ounce of stamina to the monumental task of staying alive.

Dramatic much? I’m this close to woe is me and a pity party for one.

It was an awful year. Nothing good happened at all. Have you ever said, “It can’t get any worse?” It’s usually followed by instant regret. Why did you tempt fate? You fool! You utter buffoon. Why, in all things sparkly and decent, would you do something so incredibly stupid?

Well, that sums up the last year of my life. When I thought it couldn’t get worse? Surprise! 

My body tried to kill me, my dog died, and oh, my God, what the hell was all of that? Don’t worry, I’m not going into detail again. I’ve written about it plenty. Not to sound dismissive, but you can read all about it in previous posts. Cool? Cool.

For the sake of this musing— and my sanity— let’s say that it was a no-good, very bad, horrible year. Happiness? Fulfillment? Moments of joy? Nope…Sigh… Let’s move on and talk about something else. Anything else. OMG, just let it go already!

Fine, moving on. Let’s see…

I’m more exhausted than I’ve been in modern memory. I think I fell asleep chewing. It was the first meal I had in nearly three days. Yeah, I forgot to eat that’s how tired my brain is. I almost brushed my teeth with my hairbrush. Who wouldn’t want their whole head smelling minty fresh?

Yet, I’m happy about it. Weird. Peculiar. A disorder of some sort? Google, what are the symptoms of sleep deprivation?

So, what’s the cause of this strange dichotomy? Well, let’s not drag this out longer than we already have. Drum roll, please, and thank you. You’re very talented. I appreciate your efforts.

I got a puppy! 

A tiny, furry, little life was placed in my arms. Someone decided that I could be trusted with this creature’s very existence. I’m now responsible for the well-being of someone other than myself. His needs, right now, are more important than my own.

He’s just a baby, after all. So small. So helpless. He needs me to help him with everything. Food. Water. Snuggles. Tuck him into bed. I’ve picked up so much poop that it’s turning into a part-time job.

*Insert a contented sigh*

It’s a special thing, isn’t it? Being needed by another living thing. Wanted is cool, but needed? Looking into wide eyes that are counting on you to show up. Tired, hungry, a bad case of the “I don’t wanna’s.” None of that matters because a precious little creature needs you.

It’s been a long time since I was needed like this. I’ve gotten used to being on my own and free to do what I want when I want. It sounds good, I know. Following your fancies like you’re surfing the wind over a rainbow atop a unicorn. Wee, ain’t nothing gonna break my stride. Ain’t nothing gonna slow me down. Woah-oh.

Where did that song come from? Random.

Reality is a lot more mundane. With no one to answer to, my whims take me to the sofa, a snuggly blanket, and a streaming service. Any delusions of grand adventures stay tucked away in my dreams at night. I could’ve done anything, but instead, I did nothing.

Isn’t that always the way it goes? My friends with real jobs take their vacation days and make a list of all the plans they have. They type it out and prioritize it. It really is a magnificent creation. I would be incredibly impressed, except we’ve done this dance before. We both know what’s coming next.

Despite their best intentions and the laminated agendas? They put off all they wanted to get done until the last day. Then, in a mad dash, try to accomplish a week’s worth of projects in twelve hours. The texts will come in, “Why did I wait so long? I thought I had more time.”

Every time they make their lists and swear in multiple languages they’ll get it done. Haha, no, silly goose. We both know this time won’t be different. I know you think you’ve got it under control, but people are people. We’re wired for procrastination. 

Lazy? Well, you work hard and deserve the downtime. I’m not judging you. Nope, I’m simply suggesting you abandon the list now and save yourself the self-loathing later. You deserve better.

Of course, everything we want to do is overridden by need. The need for rest. The need for mind-numbing drivel on the screen. A need to be needed.

For months, I made my own list of things I wanted to do with my abundant freedom. There were places I wanted to go shoot (photography not…well, you know). Restaurants I thought about trying. Adventures I could go on with a friend or just my camera.

I kept setting a date and finding a good reason not to do it. The weather’s bad. My back hurt. I didn’t sleep much. Gas is too expensive. I don’t want to be a person today. They were all solid excuses that could not be refuted by logic, reason, or intelligent discourse, so don’t even try.

Seriously, you’re wasting your breath. My mind is made up. Oo, there’s a new show on…

Need. What did I need? I didn’t know, so I stayed still and waited. Sure, recovery takes time, and we have to sit still and wait for it to run its course. Pushing too hard when we’re not ready won’t do any good. Just wait, you’ll get there. Rest. Recover. Heal.

Or, and this might just be me, we get stuck in the wait and healing. We don’t realize we’re ready. We don’t know that we need to reenter life and start living it again. The waiting feels safe, and God knows I would give anything to feel safe.

My chronic illness people will know all too well that being safe is a feeling that’s fleeting at best and a delusion at worst. It’s not a need that can be met because the thing that threatens our safety lives inside us. Whew, that’s grim.

But here I am, typing these words with a little body snuggling against my thigh. The smallest head is using me as a pillow. He sighs, stretches, yawns, and I rub his belly until he drifts back to sleep.

For the first time in six months, there’s something counting on me to get out of bed and show up. He needs me to take care of myself so I can take care of him. He needs me to move my body off this sofa so he can move his little legs, run, play, and live his best life.

And this is what I’ve been waiting for all this time. Someone, something, to need me. It pulls me out of myself and forces me to focus on something outside my body. It forces me to look forward instead of being stuck in the past. I need to be needed.

Now you’ll have to excuse me, he just woke up and peed on the carpet. Potty train is going well.