I’ve Made my Life Too Complicated

My life is complicated. Even with not having a full-time job anymore (I’m kinda semi-retired but still feel I’m working most of the day), my to-do lists grow longer. Yes, I get to cross off items almost daily, but more ideas of things to do and topics to write about multiply before I accomplish older projects.

I love to write and do pastel paintings, but my brain is on overload most the time. Do I work on this or that? I’ll start writing about one topic, then other subjects will jump in. I’ll go in the studio to paint and get distracted by cleaning up or wanting to start another painting scene. I just can’t make up my mind and the see-sawing, wishy-washiness causes anxiety.

Flower gardening has fallen by the wayside this summer. The plan to re-paint the deck, front porch and steps have been put on hold until next year because of all the inclement weather. Plus, I can’t deal with the biters out there.

I now have so many lists, my life is getting even more discombobulated. My mind spins and shuts down. Decision making causes even more stress.

This all said, I find life very interesting. Yes, I get discouraged and even depressed sometimes, but for the most part, there’s excitement in delving into topics, sharing thoughts and feelings, and creating colorful paintings. There are many scenes I want to paint and some I’d like to paint again.

Then, too, all the overthinking makes it hard to focus on one task at a time… and it’s exhausting. I know, it doesn’t make sense, but I swear thinking too much can be more tiring than physical labor – then again, that’s another topic as to the issues physical labor causes now. (See how my thoughts pile on.)

I am easily distracted… and if I’m not distracting myself, my Tuli-kitty often wants attention when I’m in the middle of some intense work. Then there are the interruptions with phone calls – scams, marketing, begging, surveys, et.al.

I don’t mind working, and I don’t mind working hard. But I don’t want to feel like I’m working all the time. Yet, it seems the more I try to simplify my life, the more complicated I’ve actually made it.

Maybe I’ve just reached a point in my life where I just can’t do it all by myself any more… but I have no choice. If I want these things done, I’m the only one who can do them. Most of these things are on me, but now, even the things I could hire out to have done, I can’t afford to do so anymore. Such as it is.