Tuesday, March 13, 2018

The price of being too emotional


By Monica Vest Wheeler

Recently, I was told I was too emotional, that I needed to chill.

Well, I'll proudly wear the "too emotional" label because it makes me who I am … who I am finally at peace being.

I'd rather err on the side of humanity and authenticity. I'd rather be transparent than cloudy … even when tears blur my vision.

And because I choose to feel and share those emotions, that makes me less than perfect. I accept the role of being only human.

I gave up perfectionism several years ago, and it was one of my best decisions ever. Taking that load off my body, mind and soul opened the door to so many more life experiences that would have left me far poorer in spirit if I had missed them.

Try it if you suffer from the perfection bug. Cheaper than medicine or therapy. Also extends your life. Guaranteed!

Being "too emotional" is not easy. It can be beyond exhausting. It can make you vulnerable. It can be embarrassing. It can make some people uncomfortable.

Apparently that is what happened to the person who labeled me "too emotional."

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry …

I've spent much of my life apologizing … for what, I'm not exactly sure. A lot of folks have asked, "What are you apologizing for?" And it's a hard habit to explain. I just wanted to make sure I hadn't bothered or inconvenienced or offended anyone … almost everyone I encountered.

Oh, how ridiculous! And it's an even harder habit to break!

The other day, while saying goodbye to a friend here in Peoria, I got teary-eyed again and tried to hide it. Putting her arm around me, she gave me the greatest gift by saying, "I know you're crying, hon. It's okay."

There are moments and connections and words and love that frequently tickle my tear ducts these days. I guess God wired me with extra tears, and I MUST produce! It's amazing I haven't short-circuited yet.

Maybe it just gives me more power and energy to live … and love.

Saturday, March 10, 2018

Caregivers are worthy, too



By Monica Vest Wheeler

I do need more sleep.

But I've realized the past few days that what I really need much more of is more of ME.

Yep, I used the word "more" three times … just like Donna Summer did in the disco age …

The role of caregiver can suck the life out of you. I've seen it happen to the kindest and the most stoic individuals in the world. I've witnessed firsthand the stress of caregiving debilitate the strongest bodies.

Ironically, caregiving can also give birth to the strongest hearts and souls in the universe. For in those moments of monumental physical, emotional and spiritual challenge, a new life purpose can be born.

In more than a dozen years of engaging with caregivers, I've learned that no two individuals and care scenarios are alike. It's all because we have different DNA and experiences. I still find it so fascinating that God keeps coming up with unique fingerprints and souls every second …

After six months of traveling back and forth to Indiana and living 75 percent of my life in the Hoosier state during that time, I've decided that we have a choice to be caregivers or careworriers.

Yep, you heard it here: careworriers.

We can begin to define ourselves by what we think we can and should do. We can give ourselves the title of head cheerleader and then beat ourselves up mercilessly with the pompoms when our loved one isn't cheerful.

We can question our own reasoning abilities when we're arguing on the phone with insurance companies, where we're sure the representatives have been trained to subliminally make us believe we've become stupid after pressing 42 buttons in search of a real human being.

And it's such a tiny request, a live voice …

A live connection …

After you've written a dozen new definitions of the meaning of life … and seem to adopt a new one every few days …

And then start to compose a new theory of your own life … because no one can do it for you … and because you just need to sit down and do it.

It's too easy to be consumed by the challenges that stand in front of you when you care for someone else …

And push aside the ones that are just as important but are hiding … like yourself …

I still don't know what the immediate future holds for my loved one as we take it day by day …

But I know I have to rediscover the core of myself this minute and the next …

Because, as I tell all the caregivers I've encountered over the years …

You are worthy, too.

Yes, I am worthy, too.

And desperately seeking horses to talk to …