Busy

Does knowing your weaknesses make it easier to improve yourself?

 
I’ve known, arguably forever, that I put an exorbitant amount of pressure on myself in all aspects of my life – from school to my personal life, I’ve always felt a need to be the best. In many ways, it’s been the reason behind my success but I can honestly say it’s been my downfall more than once. It’s often impossible for me to keep up with myself.
 
For years, I beat myself up over not doing well enough in this or that. I refused to admit defeat, and don’t even get me started on the process of swallowing my pride and asking for help. My stubborn nature and independence has led me down some slippery slopes, but I think I’m finally figuring out how to keep it together.
 
It took a long time for me to be able to admit to my “crazy”, partially because I felt like it made me a failure. The sense of impending doom that lived in my chest was exhausting and the ups and downs were giving me whiplash. I spent many days feeling like I was stuck – kind of like when I was a kid and I decided to walk in the muck behind my great-grandmother’s, only to lose my boots in the process and need to be rescued. I didn’t like it.

I don’t feel stuck any more.

After weeks of not sleeping, sluggishly dragging my sorry ass to school, struggling to keep my eyes open at work and many tearful phone calls with my Mom I went to the doctor. In spite of my overwhelming desire to deal with my anxiety on my own terms, I just couldn’t do it anymore and waving my little white flag has been the best decision I’ve ever made.
I still get anxious when I’m working towards a deadline or if traffic is heavy and I’m late, but I don’t get anxious about taking the dog outside any more than that’s a wonderful thing. I’m still putting a lot of pressure on myself, piling my proverbial plate so high I can barely see over it but I probably always will.
 

Even armed with the knowledge that I’m often setting myself up for burnout, I jump at the opportunity to get involved with various organizations and squeeze things into my schedule knowing full well I’ll be scrimping on sleep and rushing to get things done. I’m so tired most mornings the bags under my eyes are bigger than my boobs, but I’m sure I’ll slow down someday…

…right after I run the Bluenose 5K with the Autism NS team, organize a breakfast for 400 people, work on the Autism Golf Ball, go to Aqua Zumba every Thursday and squeeze in some time for the boys I love to squeeze. Oh, and get my hair done, paint my nails and walk that thing I call my dog. After I get all of those things done, grab a coffee and pick up some new shoes I’ll slow down.

Not.

Unstuck

I have a really bad habit of getting stuck in my own head.

All manner of little things can do it to me. I worry about this and that, one stressor feeds another and the next thing I know I'm on the verge of tearing my hair out and crying into a glass of something alcoholic. This last month has certainly taken it's toll on me. Tomorrow, for example, will be one month since the day I found all of my belongings missing from my old apartment. The property rental company finally settled last week, and while it was only half of what it should have been, I just couldn't do it anymore. I was too tired.

I've left the dishes to pile up in the kitchen, laundry overflowing in the baskets, clothes strewn across my closet and eaten more than one bag of popcorn for lunch. I was tired, and most of it was my own damn fault.

Yesterday, I woke up sour. It may have been the fact that it was day two of a hangover (it would seem I'm not 19 any more), and it could have had something to do with the fact that my neighbours choose 4:48AM as the perfect time to blast really loud, really bad music. Must be nice to not have to get up and do anything in the morning. I texted my friend and expressed my displeasure at the whole thing. The texts ranged from "Are you going to go to class?" to "Today might be the day I finally lose my shit," but I managed to put on pants (real ones, with a button), and I went to class.

I went grocery shopping with one friend and ranted about how tired and frustrated I was. Another friend came over for movies and dinner and she and I ranted about how frustrated we both were. Then we put on hilarious music and danced. We went for hot chocolates, and I came home to a hot bath and I sat in front of my laptop for the better part of two hours, too wrapped up in my own head to write anything.

It was past my bedtime before I finally got out of my head, and it took a Skype call and a 5-minute laughing fit to do it. As it turned out, I went to bed two hours later than I should have and woke up positively exhausted with bad hair and a smile on my face. I needed a good laugh it would appear.

And I've already watched the 19-second video evidence I have of the hilarity twice.