My normal… whatever that is?

Today has not been a great day for me, mentally or physically.

I have been having a hard time making time for me. It seems I am always rushing. Rushing to take Lynn here and there since she can’t drive at the moment. Rushing to the theatre group. Rushing to make supper. Rushing to one meeting or another. 

This afternoon I was able to lay down for 12 minutes before I had to get up and rush again. When we got home from the church, I was able to play the PlayStation 4 for maybe an hour before I had to start supper. Then after supper I was out the door again for a meeting with the writing group that our bookstore sponsors with the Pie Shoppe. 

Yes, I’m getting snippets of down time here and there, but it hasn’t been a lot. I know that it’s pretty typical of todays modern life, always rushing, spreading oneself out too thin. 

The problem is, I’m not typical. Short term coping strategies help me maintain, but I can not keep up the strain I have placed on myself for long term. Over time my coping strategies break-down. I become so weary that sleep no longer rejuvenates me. 

I can convince myself for awhile that things are normal, that what I feel is normal. Then the self-doubt begins creeping in. The stress builds. The fatigue becomes more pronounced. I continue to muscle through it, convinced that this time I can be strong enough. The weariness becomes more and more pronounced, and I start the descent into despair, depression, and crisis. Even a river will cut through rock given enough time. 

Today is the first time in months I have wanted to self-harm. The fact that self-harm is even floating through my mind tells me where I am at in the cycle. January will be three years self-harm free. The fact that my emotions are getting so strong again that I want to throw that away scares me. 

Factoring in the nearly constant ache of my shoulder and body and mind that have been pushed to the limits since I was discharged from hospital, it’s no wonder I’m feeling tired. 

I can’t control the cycle I always run through, and I know it will run it’s course. Despite the noise in my mind and the pain, knowing that I’ve been through worse and survived does give me some hope. 

Unfortunately for me, this is my normal. My emotions run shallow. I overextend myself and wear out fast. I slip. I fall. I rest. I get up again, and keep on running. The fact that my normal is different than most doesn’t mean I’m any less. I’m no less talented. I’m no less honest. I’m no less important. It just means I can’t always do what I wish I can. It means I need some extra support sometimes. 

Life keeps trying to knock me down, and I keep getting back up.


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