My mind is too crowded. My thoughts are muddled by a constant urge to do something creative or important. I feel like, by trying to find something I can focus this creative energy on to, I’m actually sapping it away, ‘spreading myself too thinly’. But then I try to see it through detached eyes and realize that, even though the tiniest thing seems to overload me, I’m not really doing all that much.
I’ll be honest; it hurts to admit that. My body seems to be falling apart, my mind’s stretched to the limit and my future is, well… As yet unseen. And all this comes as a result of not doing ‘all that much,’.
I’ve always wondered why I feel like I have this self destructive desire to blame myself for everything that is wrong with my body and my life. Now I believe I know; it is easier than accepting the truth. I have had almost no control over the ‘bad things’ (no control= scary scenario). The ‘make it all better’ button is beyond my reach. No matter how many times I put myself -or someone else puts me through- CBT or GET it will have the same outcome. Something inside me seemed to think I was being strong, by labelling myself as weak. By saying that I had ‘failed’ to achieve some important goal. Because by accusing myself of failure and weakness at least I was in control. It was all my fault so the job of fixing the situation was all mine too. Whereas saying ‘it’s not my fault’ translated into ‘there’s nothing I can do’. Relinquishing responsibility, it seemed to me, was relinquishing any power over my health and wellbeing.
But I think I was wrong. By pushing myself to be strong I was showing my weakness. I could never face the truth, admit that I couldn’t go on. I may never be able to say that I’m happy with my capabilities and my boundaries. Maybe I’ll always be my very own, personal on board ‘pushy parent’, forcing myself into situations that are beyond my limits and denying myself opportunities to explain my situation honestly- feeling that I am exaggerating or thinking “No one wants to hear that and it’s pathetic and whiney of you to force anyone to listen!” then go on to downplay the daily suffering that is life with chronic illnesses, using phrases such as ”I get tired easily…”. But I hope I don’t. I hope that some day -some day soon- I will be able to convey my thoughts to others in person, not just alone in my room. I hope that I will not ‘loose my bottle’ when it comes down to it. That I will say what needs to be said to raise awareness of conditions like ME that seems to have stolen my ambition and left me feeling worthless recently along with the physical pain.
You know what? I don’t just ‘hope’ I’ll reach that point; I am one hundred percent sure I will. And do you know why? Because, while writing this i accepted- for the first time -that it’s okay to love running when you can’t even walk.