Pulled in so many directions, I forget my first priority is my health.
How am I to achieve anything if my body and mind are falling apart? I cannot give my best when I’m not in my best shape. My duties of care regarding my disabilities have been neglected. I expect myself to keep up with people who have different levels of need than me, then I punish myself for ‘failing’.
I can’t allow myself to wait for others to notice I’m struggling. History has shown me that no matter how good intentioned, many people won’t realize the state I’m until it’s nearly too late. I also know the road I’m currently on is one that only ends in crisis if I don’t change something soon.
Ask for help, be upfront, don’t hide, I know these things to be tried and true. It’s just always easier to let things get worse and worse. Being in so much pain and being so tired, it’s much harder to take action than to succumb. The reality, though, is that the struggle of trying is much easier than the end of the road unchanged. A phase of new pain and then healing, versus a never ending descent in exponentially debilitating destruction.
The potential for stability and healing is worth the effort.
I just feel like I have no effort left to give. Piece by piece, sources of power have been robbed from me. My privacy, my autonomy, even my meagre social life, my best friend, I’ve lost many things. Many through choice.
I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t.
In the past, I’ve proven I’m capable of redirecting myself from catastrophe. I have to believe I can do this, that it’ll be worth it. I could be creating so much art, writing stories, growing things and tending to the earth. Everything I want to do, I can do.
I just don’t know how. My confidence has been so utterly shattered, the insecurity I write of so often has grown much stronger than I’ve ever been.
Or maybe I only think that because I’m so insecure.
The content I write revolves around what I’ve found astoundingly helpful and hurtful. I express these experiences with a voice of surety. I can’t muster the healer within me who can speak in such a way. It’s busy falling prey to escapism.
I need to wake up again. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.