Teetering

I was thisclose to the breaking point this week. I just had too much on my plate, and I didn't feel like I could handle it. I still feel swamped, but I am a bit more in control.
My projects at work are mounting. It is just impossible to get the amount of work done expected of me in regular eight-hour days. I will be spending a couple hours working tonight. That's just how it is. I don't love that, but it's a reality. I know it's a demanding job, but this week, so much else was piled on top that I felt sick with stress.

We were training a new version of our software, and I was with a particular co-trainer for the first time. I had to take my extra-long breaks for pumping as usual, but this time someone was in the mother's room and the nearest handicap bathroom. I was sprint-walking through the halls with my pump bag slung over my shoulder trying to find a place to lift my shirt.

Thursday night I had an impossibly hard Economics exam. Studying for it was making my head hurt. On Wednesday night, I was falling asleep as I was studying, so I decided instead to wake up at 4:00 the next morning to study, walk on the treadmill, and tend to Lena. I went to bed at the same time as the boys that night and actually felt fairly rested. I may have managed a B on the exam and having it behind me took a great deal of stress off my mind.

Still this upcoming week is ridiculously busy. I have to be in to work tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. to mentor a new hire. I am teaching a new class tomorrow and Tuesday for which I am not yet prepared (hence the working several hours today). R's birthday party is this Saturday, and the boys both start soccer this Sunday. (A funny side note: somehow T is the coach for both teams. I can not imagine three-year-olds are highly competitive. It's going to be like herding cats!)

As I was driving to class and my exam on Thursday, I called my mom. She and my dad are coming over to help me on Wednesday this week, because our nanny is taking the day off.

"I just feel like I have too much on my plate," I told her. My throat was aching a bit from held-off tears.

"That's because you do."

I know I do, but I don't know what to do about it at this point. And right now I feel like I am just surviving. Lena is almost six months old, and I want to enjoy her instead of seeing her as another task to take care of.

My standards for myself are impossibly high, and I feel like I set myself up for failure. I feel like anything less than nursing Lena for a year is letting her down. If I don't do this for her, aren't I just being selfish? If I get an AB in my class, isn't that the same as flunking? I have this constant anxiety of not doing enough. My rampant perfectionism causes me to be high-achieving but also rarely satisfied.

So something's got to give. I clearly can't go on juggling all of this. But I just don't know what  to give up.

--MM