A few weeks ago, I had a really long weekend.  Work that week had been stressful.  I traveled to see friends after work on Friday, but it was an emotionally draining visit.  The next day, I spent at least 8 hours at a small gathering. . . again, it was lovely to spend time with these friends, but socializing with more than one or two people is going to wear me out.  I drove home that evening, and since I had coffee to stay alert on the road, I wasn’t able to get to sleep for a while.  I was emotionally exhausted and ended up crying in bed, and the next morning I woke up with a headache (from the too-short sleep and the crying).  I couldn’t sleep in, because my family was going to a gathering, where I would again be socializing and listening to people talk about things I don’t have (wedding plans, babies).  As I stumbled around like a grumpy zombie trying to get ready to go, I was told I needed “to rally” because it was important.

I’m not still curled up in bed under my weighted blanket.

This is me rallying.

I put on clothes that aren’t a t-shirt and pajama pants.

This is me rallying.

I’m responding with nods, grunts, and short exasperated sentences instead of snapping at the upbeat attempts to get me to join in the chatting.

This is me rallying.

I’m allowing my picture to be taken and trying to smile.

This is me rallying.

I’m getting in the car again, even though I just traveled from the other side of the state a few hours ago.

This is me rallying.

I’m strategically isolating in the car to simultaneously recover and prepare for more socializing – hooded sweatshirt to block the sun, squishy pillow to try to sleep, noise-blocking headphones; then, when sleep fails me, escaping into an episode of a TV show streamed onto my phone.

This is me rallying.

I’m getting out of the car instead of staying in here and sobbing or sleeping.

This is me rallying.

When told, “I need you to rally,” one more time, I respond,

“This IS me rallying.”

and I walk into the house, projecting the friendly persona expected of me.