Around Christmastime last year, our community group did our monthly service project at a women's shelter in DC. Some of us bring food items to the shelter, and others prepare and serve it. All I had to do was bring the sour cream and cheese for fajitas.
I walked from my office in Penn Quarter to the shelter at 14th and N, about a 25 minute walk. I love to walk in DC. It's one of my favorite things to do, and normally I'll walk for blocks and blocks, hours and hours, passing metro stops as I go, to walk instead.
But not lately. By the time I got there, I was winded and starting to feel light-headed. With determination I climbed the four flights of stairs and proceeded to the kitchen. That's when the low blood sugar monster got me and I felt like I was about to pass out. I chugged some diet coke for a quick fix, and realized we didn't have enough drinks.
Every step to the 7/11 three blocks away was a chore, and I finally arrived, breathless. I bought three 2-liters and also some nuts for the energy to walk back. The clerk was taking his sweet time, and I was about to faint. I tried to be courteous even though I could feel the irritability building in my chest and my patience was about to snap. How could I be rude when I was buying drinks for battered women? But didn't this guy realize I was at death's door myself?
I tore into the package of cashews and chomped away. The three-block trip back to the shelter loomed overwhelmingly, but I somehow made it, lugging my two-liters that got more cumbersome with every step. And up the stairs. Four flights of stairs.
Done. I'm outa here. I've got to get home and lie on my couch. I've GOT to lie down, and get something to eat.
I tried to be nice to my friends as I stumbled out the door. But I was near tears and unable to express how I felt. What was wrong with me? Why could I not take a walk without feeling drained? Why by Thursday could I not wait for the weekend...to sleep for two days? Why had I been unable to make it to most of my Christmas parties? Why did I feel so depleted all the time, like the Energizer bunny's competition next to everybody else, next to my old self?
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My doctor had little guidance. Eat more snacks throughout the day, eat healthier food, and exercise more. If that didn't help, then I could try a sleep study. Maybe I wasn't getting quality sleep and it was affecting everything else. But intuitively I knew that wasn't my problem, and I sure as hell didn't want to be hooked up to machines and have someone sit in a chair and watch me sleep all night long! But I would do whatever it took to get well...I was desperate. So I scheduled the sleep study.
Meanwhile, I remembered that one of my friends, Ragan, who had lived in DC and worked for a Christian minstry had experienced intense fatigue and had taken a two-month sabbatical. I had actually talked to her in January 2006 about this issue and she'd recommended the book "The Hidden Link Between Adrenaline and Stress," which I'd started at the time, but set aside after a few chapters because I thought I'd gotten the message. Oh, how I wish I'd kept reading.
I called her again, and asked how she was doing two years later. She's living in Hawaii and doing hard cardio for an hour a day, and has all the energy she needs and then some. Great, that helps. I couldn't drop everything and move to paradise (though I'm sure that would cure me), so I stepped up my running that weekend to an hour run on Saturday and a half hour on Sunday, but that night I had to excuse myself from a conversation at church and go stretch myself across some chairs in a back room. Not exactly the result I was hoping for.
When talking with Ragan though (thanks for your help, Rag!) I had mentioned the Adrenaline and Stress book and said, "So I should probably finish it, huh?" At her encouragement I picked it back up again, and took a huge step forward toward figuring out my prob.
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Our bodies are truly amazing. They are equipped to respond to stress, danger, and the ups and downs of life in a fallen world. When we have a deadline at work or step on a snake in the woods, adrenaline kicks in automatically to provide the stamina, reflexes, and quick-thinking we need to get the job done or the heck outa there.
However, if you have a deadline or step on snakes every day, eventually the adrenaline is going to run out. We aren't machines, and there's no endless supply of anything in the universe besides God's mercy and toilet paper. I hope. So if I'm starting a church, trying to keep everyone happy, trying to be perfect, get it all done, going from brunch to a baby shower to a shopping spree to two parties, keeping up with my crushes and the dating game, placing unreal expectations on myself, and relying on coffee to get me through the day...I can't do it forever.
I'm one of those people. Call me an over-achiever, but I love to be busy, live life to the fullest, cram as much into a day as I can because time is precious and life is short. I love to hang out with my friends, go from one activity to the next, and get that rush of productivity and achievement at work. I want to experience it all, have adventures, take risks, and surmount my limitations. Including my humanness.
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