Today is a difficult day. Its brings memories. It brings emotional states that are stored in my body and can be triggered by the tiniest of events or environmental factors. It brings many thoughts of what life "should" be like and isn't, and I have to try and remember/believe that the "should" is the wrong way round.
It's not only today: throughout most of September I deal with some level of the above, but today is one of the worst days. This year I'm primed with the exhaustion of the return to work in a very busy class after the summer holidays and a couple of weeks of teething/coldy-interrupted-toddler-sleep on top of the lurking reminders of the past. The week has been exhausting, throwing a marvellous array of extra missiles my way: busy weekend, changes to plans, being unwell myself, a particularly difficult and distressing night of very little sleep at all, you get the idea.
Before my work week even began I was treated to a new and wonderful adventure of dissociative experience. By which I mean not wonderful and not a treat. Thankfully not bad in the grand scheme of dissociation options but enough to unsettle things even more. In some ways it feels as though the years in-between never happened. It's a pretty clear clue that my brain is overtaxed and not happy about it anyway.
I pushed through two days of work, questioning all the time whether I should be there: am I doing a good enough job, do I still have enough capacity to do a good enough job at home as well, am I making things worse by being at work, am I making them better, what outweighs what - where is the balance hanging?
I've tried to do everything right - I've kept talking about it, to professionals, to Mr Peggy, to colleagues, trying to keep everyone aware and in the loop. No surprises, no assuming people will somehow know by osmosis, no "you should have told us". I've put into practise the tips I've been given: breathing, grounding, verbalising, writing, asking for help. And finally, calling it. Existing conspicuously enough to say enough is enough. I need to stop now before a real crisis.
Now I have to sit with the fact that I've done that. And that I'll never know whether I really needed to or if I was just making a fuss and being lazy or self-centred or greedy. That I have made the day more difficult for others by making it more bearable for myself and my family. I have to sit with the thought "what if this is the beginning of a slippery slope?" and the fear that I will become unreliable again because of my anxiety/distress levels.
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| Not just accepting but celebrating. He has my back. |
But in the midst of all this there is plenty to be thankful for and plenty that is positive. The amazing Mr Peggy who sent the message above this morning and who constantly picks up the slack when I'm struggling (and all the time 🤣), reminds me to look after myself and reassures me that it's OK to. Lil' Peggy who no matter how many times he drives us mad with his hurricane exploration of the world and its possibilities can still soothe me with a momentary snuggle or smile. Colleagues and friends who understand and who affirm that I'm doing the right thing. The fact that I am out and about living my life, being able to be at work in order to have the dilemma at all. Recovery from mental health problems doesn't mean they go away and is by no means linear. I am certainly not at the best place I've been in the past few years, but neither am I at the worst.
Today is a difficult day but not a disaster. I've listened to myself, I've made choices that I think were right for me. I have been gentle with myself and am sitting with that fact. Right now I am within my window of tolerance and think I may well be able to stay there, which for this day is a best possible outcome.
