What Gratitude Looks Like When You’re Worn Out
Gratitude doesn’t erase the chaos. It just helps me stay grounded in it.
I don’t think gratitude comes naturally. Our default setting seems to be selfish and negative. Maybe that was once a survival instinct, a way to stay alert when we lived as hunter-gatherers and had to look over our shoulders all the time.
As someone in recovery, I’ve learned that gratitude is how we keep resentments at bay. And resentments are the biggest killer of alcoholics.
I did not feel like I had much to be grateful for this week. Most of my grumpiness was about work, especially things happening at my company. Our quarterly earnings were being reported, and the final decisions on a corporate restructure were about to be announced. We were told our department would “remain as is,” but that didn’t exactly make me feel secure.
The layoffs came midweek and were wider and deeper than I expected. We’ve had some kind of layoff or restructure every year for the last five years, but this one dwarfed the rest. My department was told we wouldn’t be affected and that our work teaching leaders how to coach effectively to improve the customer experience would be leaned on even more.
You’d think that would make me feel relieved. It didn’t. I felt anxious and guilty. Survivor’s guilt hit hard. Even after hearing that the severance package was generous, I still felt uneasy. I made it through this time, but I kept wondering: when will they call my number? Next year? Next month? Tomorrow?
Sleep hasn’t helped. I’ve battled restless legs syndrome (RLS) for years and tried different medications to manage it. Gabapentin worked well for me until this summer when it suddenly stopped being reliable. Most nights, RLS wakes me around 11:45 p.m. The only thing that helps is lying flat and bending my legs toward my chest until it calms down. It works, but it eats into my sleep. I’ve been tired.
Friday was Halloween, and my youngest daughter had four friends sleep over. The dogs were restless, barking at every knock on the door. We had a plumbing problem that I had to fix and a pantry door that jammed shut. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and snapping at everyone.
When I finally went to bed, I thought about the scene in Return of the Jedi when the Emperor tempts Luke Skywalker to give in to the dark side. If I had been Luke that night, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I would have taken out Palpatine, Vader, and anyone else on that battle station. That’s how angry I was.
Then I came across a TikTok from Mark Scarbrough.1 Mark is an author and hosts the Walking With Dante podcast. He was diagnosed with early-stage pancreatic cancer and recently had a Whipple procedure, which is an incredibly invasive surgery. He’s been honest about his ups and downs, and in this video, he talked about his struggles with gratitude and why he still has reasons to be thankful.
I needed to hear that.
I don’t compare my situation to others. It’s easy to think, “If he’s dealing with cancer, my problems aren’t so bad,” but I don’t buy that. Your stubbed toe might be my broken leg. Still, what he said about gratitude hit home.
So here’s what I’m grateful for.
I’m grateful for a son who is about to go to college, an athlete and scholar beyond anything I could have imagined. He isn’t wondering if he’ll go to college but where he’ll go, and that’s something special.
I’m grateful for a middle daughter who teaches me perseverance every day, and for the services that help her navigate her dyslexia.
I’m grateful for excellent medical benefits and access to care that’s helped me lose 40 pounds since June. My insurance covers Wegovy, and that makes me part of a very small group of people who can afford it.
I’m grateful for a wife who listens, who stood by me through drinking and sobriety, and who parents our kids with strength and grace.
I’m grateful to be sober. Most people never get sober, and for those who try, few stay that way.
Most of all, I’m grateful for you. There are plenty of podcasts and newsletters out there, but you chose this one. That means something.
What about you? What are you grateful for this week? Tell me in the comments below.
My mom died of pancreatic cancer. I follow anyone who is battling this awful disease. Mark makes me think and in the age of nasty social media, Mark is the best of what we are.