The hardest part of achieving my goals has always been starting. I get organized and I’ll make sure to plan the unplanned, yet when I get to the starting line I get tunnel vision. The only thing I can see is how much time its going to take to achieve said goals. I look at how many “spoons” I’ll need and weigh that against what I’ve got.
It makes me pretty miserable.
But I’m not here to talk about that I suppose. My real goal here was just to get typing and sort of let the thoughts flow freely before I made an excuse not to do it. I’ve been writing elsewhere but haven’t made any real progress on my book. I’ve been reading, but not enough to really do anything with it. My main concern over the last year has been to just get my physical body back to some kind of normal.
The panic attacks are under control, the anxiety is at a minimum, and I’m getting sleep every day and even mostly at night - which is a bonus I never thought I’d have. How did I manage to do that? Medicine. A lot of medicine. I’m not happy about the sheer amount of medication it takes to keep my body in a “normal” state, but its better than being stuck in my bed 24/7 and only leaving it when there is a break in the panic cycle.
My body feels a little bit more like my own and less like a puppet to an insane puppeteer.
But with every success I’ve had, there has been some downfall as well. The question of when and if I am ready to go back to work has crossed many people’s minds and I’ve been made to answer each time. It’s not like we (my men folk and I), haven’t discussed it before and often - it’s just that we are in no particular hurry. I’ve also noticed that when I am done answering they immediately turn to Boyfriend and ask him when he is going to get a “real job” as if being a stay at home dad isn’t considered real. They never question Husband. They consider him the real MVP in this relationship.
He’s the one with a “real job” so it means to them that he is the only one contributing to anything. That’s a bit discouraging. Most people just assumed that after all my surgeries I would heal up physically and get right back to it. Unfortunately, my spirit needs time to heal as well. It has been thoroughly broken. And I am still learning how to be awake during certain hours and asleep during others. I am still learning how to monitor and navigate pain and my body’s response to it. I’m still learning how to not be afraid in my own skin.
That all takes time.
According to Husband, the only thing I should be focusing on is our kids, running our house, healing, and of course - writing. All people with a different opinion than his can go fuck themselves. His words, not mine. And for the most part I agree. But there is a part of me that still feels like an incredible burden on my family and I hate that so much. It’s a terrible feeling.
When did I start equating my self worth with the amount of money I made? Since when did I allow myself to feel so worthless?
I’ve been working on other areas of my life as well. I’ve been slowly losing weight and trying to get back into shape and just be overall more healthier. Even my doctor has me on medication to fix my thyroid issue that just came about this year. That seems to be helping me too. More energy and less fatigue. This is promising.
So here we go, another start, another plan and another goal. Maybe this time I won’t choke at the starting line like I have been. Maybe this time I’ll learn how to power through it or make slow and steady progress.
Maybe. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.
