Sorry for my long absence, I’m on my third week of meds for anxiety. As you could probably tell by my post on anxiety,
mine had gotten out of control. The good
news is my medications are working and I am starting to feel better.
I ended up taking a few days off
work to see how I would react to the meds and I discovered something. I do better with structure. I do better when I have to be somewhere every
day at 8am. It has only been in the last
2 years that I have had a normal schedule like this and my health has been a
lot better and my sleep has become amazingly better.
The first day I had off, the meds weren’t
giving me any strange side effects so I wasn’t spending that resting in
bed. I found it fun, dyed my hair, and
watched a movie.
The second day I felt like a
slug. I didn’t want to move, I had slept
too much and that makes my body hurt. I barely did anything. I was grumpy too. I looked around and had a realization. If I worked less and stayed home more my
house would not be cleaner. I wouldn’t spend
my time making crafts and writing. I
would spend my time watching tv and eating.
It’s a fantasy I need to let go of.
Time is not the only enemy to this idealized self. “If I had enough time I would write that book…” My own will, my emotional and physical health
are also barriers to this fantasy life.
I’m not saying we should all be pushing ourselves harder, and to stop
watching TV and sleep less. I need that rest;
I have limitations within my body. Even
when it comes to sitting I feel pain.
I’m saying there is an ideal self, an
image in our head, of who we would like to be.
Maybe it would be better if we grieved that, let that image go, and just
love ourselves just the way we are.
I am proud to be a beautiful
mess.
I haven’t given up on writing or
being creative; but I allow myself to have balance.
I haven’t mastered this. I have
very high expectations for myself and find that I am my worst critic. I’m working on accepting this beautiful mess,
just as I am.
