i have been tired.
that’s everyone though, right? yeah, mostly. i know.
it’s a common trait. we fix everything on the outside, we tidy, we make neat, we bake perfect things to make people happy, because other things, deeper things, are twisty, maybe broken. are hard. are better left unattended. well, that’s a big fat lie if there ever was one.
it’s a fucked up game though, the one between goals and tasks and healthy responsibility, and unhealthy obsession and guilt and the wearing down. they’re like the pieces of a rope all twisted together. it’s very hard for me to discern which is which.
i absorb myself in lists, i put myself in a pressure cooker. i judge myself on the amount of dog hair left on the couches and rug. i rarely feel successful, in these times. it’s a setup for failure. it’s a direct route to a breaking point.
and then, for three days after work, i do not pass go, i do not collect $200. i go immediately to bed after work. i get a migraine and i nearly sob with how badly it hurts, and i try not to sob because that scrunches my forehead and makes it all hurt worse. i rewind and i figure out a new way to handle this. because there isn’t really a choice anymore.
i spend a weekend rehashing the innards of everything, of the real things that deserve work and attention. i cry a whole hell of a lot through this, but i am relieved at honesty. i am still exhausted though.
i firmly, yet gently, tell myself that i am not a superhuman, i am not a robot, and i can only handle so much. i am not deficient because shit wears me out. i learn to break two or three things off of the long to do list and only handle those for the day. i learn reasonable time management. i fall asleep early. i wake up to exercise because it gives me energy and keeps me sane, starts my day on a bright note, but i do not fret if i decide i need to sleep. i do little things that make me happy, like drink chai and reorganize my email labels.
i remind myself that i am not fucking everything up in all moments. i remind myself of this a lot.
and then i land here. where i am, yes, still a little fragile, still a little worn. but where i can at least hold my head up and take comfort in addressing that which is genuine.