burnt.

eventually, the mornings where you think, “i just can’t”, they catch up to you.

i got out of bed and walked on feet that were stinging, and my head was already starting to pound, and i thought of how i sobbed last night because i am just tired, and because i feel so guilty because i am tired, and i don’t want to broken. i want to be out there and up and able to enjoy all the amazing things i have the chance to do – i want to be like everybody else. i just want to live, too. with the rest of you and all of your fun shit and your ability to keep up.

he stroked my hair last night and told me it was really ok, that i have been doing a lot and it’s reasonable, and no one is judging me.

i got dizzy in the train station – well, i got dizzy all day, nauseous too. i was angrasad because some dude got on the train with his bike and blocked any/all of the available standing space near the bouncer, so i moved, and guys, i am NOT LIKE THIS but there was a point where i nearly had tears in my eyes because i just wanted to hold his hand and why did i have to be standing so far away? and at moments like this, thank the baby jesus for american gods on my kindle, which is my comfort food of reading.

walking to work i felt like there was a chain in the middle of my chest, connecting me to the street, pulling me down and whispering “stay there”. i realize, this sounds insane, but you know, if you’ve been here for a while you might have picked up on the theme that some of my marbles are missing and some of the ones that are there are cracked. i like to think i make up for it with charm and wit. but in any case, god, it’s a fucked up feeling to start the day feeling pulled down to a new york city sidewalk. if that is not a disheartening thing that makes you question your mental health, i am not sure what is.

so i made it through the day, with a few bouts of putting my head down on my desk to just breathe for a minute, and i am blessedly home now, in bed, with air conditioning and rest on the horizon.

but i’m wiped. i’ve been teetering on the edge of “wow you have been moving too fast” for months, and i feel super guilty about it, because people can handle more than this. there is a thing that runners say about running your own race. i repeat this to myself nearly every day, about many things. i am trying to internalize, to really understand, that it is about me and what i can handle, and i’m not broken if my standards are different than other people’s. i don’t have anything to prove, at the end of the day, and i’ve got to take care of myself and understand my own limits.

slowing down. letting go of comparison and guilt. here i go.

6 thoughts on “burnt.

  1. Obviously I want to hug you. I want to hug you hard and give your cheek and little kiss and tell you that everything is going to be OK, because it is. It really is.

    But at the same time, I want to shake you a little bit because I have been watching from afar all of this play for the last few months and I have voiced my concern about the doing too much and I was worried about what it might result in.

    All I can say if eff what everybody else is doing. Sometimes (more often than not) you are the most important one. And besides, if you don’t get enough rest, where will the energy to do all the badass shit you want to do come from?

    You know where to find me if you need a moment to let the crazy that is in all of us seep out just a little bit. You are not alone in this.

  2. First off, no guilt, bad feelings, or frustration about wanting to slow down. Time for ourselves is never, ever selfish or hurtful. It’s good to hear that you have identified the need to slow down because that’s a huge and awesome step.
    In the past year or so I’ve bee swept up in so much change, decisions to make, life, etc. that it is so easy to get overwhelmed and freaked out. Slowing down and taking things one at time, saying no, etc. is the key of course, but don’t feel badly too if you have a freak out moment ( or a few) either. All emotions and reactions are allowed and should be welcomed- being able to allow yourself to “just be” — is what matters- no matter what that looks like. xoxo

  3. the guilt of being a 20something. i know where you’re coming from, and have been feeling a bit of this myself this last week. take care of you; we’ll still be around when you want to hang 🙂 *hugs*

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