Me vs. Martha

When people think of frugality – at least, when I think of it – I tend to imagine some happy ‘50s homemaker. Someone who devotes all of her time and energy to saving money, living frugally and being annoyingly chipper.

How many of us even come close to that description?

I’m not perfect. So what?

The best way that I can sum up my own attitude toward frugal living is simply this: I am not the Martha Stewart of frugality. I don’t come up with clever uses for toilet paper tubes. I don’t turn cut-up credit cards into enchanting baby mobiles. I won’t always advise you to buy the cheapest item.

Donna Reed is an archetype of the past, and I’m content to leave her there. Don’t get me wrong, I admire women who can stay home and care for their children. But we never saw Donna Reed chasing after toddlers, cleaning away spit-up or driving bickering children to the store so she could get groceries.

The fact is that modern life is full of trade-offs and compromises. Men are expanding their roles as husbands and parents. Women are still struggling to find a balance between work and home life, as well as definitions of themselves outside either context.

In short, we all have a lot of obstacles and barriers to hurdle through – all in a world that demands instant results. After all, this is a new age: the age of multitasking. Whether you tweet, email, get directions or play a game on your cell phone, the point is that you can do all of it and more. We should be eternally grateful for so many opportunities, but instead we still wrestle with feelings of guilt.

The problem with being able to do anything — at any time, from anywhere — is that part of you starts to believe you should. People are not physically capable of taking advantage of the myriad options available. Our energy is finite.

Limitless possibilities, limited actual ability

Limitations are something I have gotten to know very well in the last decade. Just over 11 years ago, I got out of the hospital after an esoteric neurological illness. I was ready to go back to my normal, Type-A pesonality life, full of hectic schedules, stress and basic overachieving. Instead, I was stopped in my tracks by debilitating fatigue.

I spent several years in denial. Rather than accept my new limitations, I tried different kinds and amounts of work. I tried just pushing through the exhaustion. Nothing worked, and eventually I had to accept that I had a disability.

Since many readers may not have seen my blog before, I would like to give a brief overview of my activity levels. Most days, I go out once. I run about two errands and can take a walk for exercise. (So far, up to 21 minutes at a moderate pace. We’ll see how far I can extend it.) When I get tired, my muscles don’t work as well. I’m more likely to trip over things, because my feet don’t pick up all the way. I am less coordinated. My limbs feel floppy, probably because I don’t feel like I can control them well, but they also feel like they have weights attached, because it takes more effort and concentration to use them correctly.

On good days, I can run 3-4 errands, assuming they are quick and are relatively close together. Generally, I group errands by location, so that I can travel as minimal a distance as possible, even when I’m in a car. Whenever I run two or more errands, I lie down for at least a half hour, usually watching TV or some other quiet activity. This allows me to rest up, so that I don’t push my limits.

If I do push it, I probably won’t leave the apartment for a day or two. I simply won’t have the energy. If I’ve really pushed myself too hard, I spend at least a couple of hours lying on the couch, moving as little as possible and concentrating on slowing down my breathing. That’s because, when I get that fatigued, the simple act of respiration feels like too much work. Just inhaling and exhaling makes me want to weep with exhaustion, except, of course, I can’t spare the energy that would take.

None of this is fun, of course. But it’s a basic fact of my life – and one which it’s important to understand if you want to really get a glimpse into my life. (Something that I’m hoping these posts will provide.)

Now that that’s out of the way…

I didn’t mention my disability just to introduce myself. I am trying to make a point about people in general. While my limitations may be more severe than most, we all have finite amounts of energy. And it affects our lives more than you might think. It’s the cause of most compromises and day-to-day tradeoffs. After a long day of work, you can clean the kitchen or go out with friends. But you can’t do both. So your limitations dictate your choices.

These limitations also have a more basic impact. They mean that that none of us can be the Martha Stewart of everything. We don’t have the time or energy to perfect every part of life, even though many of us act as though we should. But even Martha Stewart isn’t the Martha Stewart of everything. I highly doubt she does her own bookkeeping, fills out her own taxes, sews her own clothes and builds her own home. (And if she does, I say we form a lynch mob… Who’s got the pitchforks?)

No, Martha’s not perfect; she’s very good at a few key items. Yet we tend to hold her – and others like her – up as paragons of the unattainable perfection to which we so desperately aspire. And when we do inevitably fail to become perfect, we are left with lots of time to disparage ourselves and feel ashamed. All for being human.

Been there, done that, got the inferiority complex

I understand this behavior. I was indoctrinated into it at a young age myself. I would probably still be acting that way, if it weren’t for the chronic fatigue. The fatigue caused me to seek out therapy, to come to grips with this new version of myself. And that’s when I started to realize just how stupendous an amount of energy it takes to constantly feel so bad about yourself.

So many of us spend our time constantly questioning ourselves, our actions, our results, our ideas and, in the end, our intrinsic value. We denigrate our own efforts, our aspirations, anything that is positive, simply because we believe we don’t measure up to some artificial standard that we would never think to impose on others.

Once you see this ridiculous dance from the outside, it is so appalling as to be tragic. And while you muse at the waste of time and energy (and sanity), you also start to notice something. That sneering Greek chorus in your head, the one so quick to remind you of what you’ve done wrong or why you’re not good enough, is only made up of one voice: yours. Often, the only person demanding perfection of you is… you.

After that realization, I decided to stop. Stop judging myself. Stop saying things like “lazy” when I meant “exhausted.” Stop expecting myself to be able to do things that a healthy person would find exhausting.

That’s not to say I’m over it all. I still struggle with it. Good days, bad days. You know the drill. But I certainly like myself a lot more these days. And I have a lot more time and energy to get things done.

Of course, a lot of that stuff gets done imperfectly. I’m hardly the epitome of any kind of perfection – frugal or otherwise. But, in the end, I do the best I can. And I think that’s got to count for something.

Tagged as: frugal, Money Management, Personal finance, saving money