When life gives you sunshine don’t go chasing after the rain.
I have what I think is my strangest problem ever. My time is overscheduled, all with things I desperately want to do.
I work 20 hours a week, so what could congest my week that much? Just what I asked myself.
First, there is very thing involved with taking care of my health. From planning and preparing appropriate meals to walking and physical therapy exercises and biofeedback to meditation. Not to mention doctor visits. Then is my writing, including daily journaling. Finally, add in my friends, my sister, and sometimes other children (not to mention the 10 hours of sleep a night I need to function fully), and it is hard to find balance.
Opposing all of that is my chronic pain, cPTSD, and bipolar disorder. All of which can, and do, throw a wrench into my works.
I know I should “simply” cut things out. At least until, or if, my stamina builds up. But I ask myself, which, of all these wonderful things I want to do, should I cut out. It’s not a question I know how to answer. It’s not someone anyone else can solve for me.
They all feel non-negotiable. Right now, I am thinking my health must come first. Without that, the rest are almost irrelevant. Work needs to be at the top, too. The last thing I want is to get injured or depressed and end up only staring at the TV for hours every day.
There is a vicious voice in my head taunting me, trying to shame me.
You only work 20 hours a week” it chastises me. “You are lazy and no good. It’s a job. You are lucky to have it. Don’t go taking any risks.”
“Shame on you, thinking you can write about all our secrets. You can’t do it all. Why even try? Just give up. A tiny, barely noticed life is all you are worth.”
Then it will flip and try to sooth me. “No one expects all of that from you. You are broken. You will always be broken. Just give in. Do what is easy. You will never accomplish anything great. What you need it to dial back your expectations.”
Eventually, when I refuse to engage, a softer, but more empowered voice comes through.
“I am someone,” I will yell. “I have worth. I have a story worth telling. I have love to give. Love I deserve to get in return.”
Well, now. That settles that, for the moment. However, the question of balance remains.
I don’t know the answer. I’ll fub things while I figure it out. I can play with it, though.
I will pace myself. I will try to say “NO” when I’m doing too much. Friends tell me to all the time.
I Hate “NO.” Hate to hear it. Really hate to say it.
Nothing to do but try.