I don't feel like myself. I feel exhausted. My body is sore, my mind is tired. It is one of those days when you feel like giving up. I felt this way yesterday but I kept going.
Yesterday at work was a shit show. There is only so many times a student can hit, kick, bite, yell at you without losing it. Proceeded by finding out someone you deeply care about is falling apart and I can do nothing to save him, topped off by getting hit by a freaking biker as I crossed the street to track practice.
I held it together all day yesterday and told myself it was a learning experience.
I woke up today and made myself feel invigorated.
My final straw was finding out I am missing a class I need to finish my undergrad program. A class I was told I did not need which is now full and only offered while I am at work.
Like seriously, what the fuck. I swear I have some bad juju going against me.
I have always been told that when in times like this you just have to keep going, push through the bad to get to the good, fake it until you make it and all that jazz.
Oh and I am great at faking it, but I am done.
I am now realizing that sometimes you have to rest in the idea that it is OK to not be OK.
We strive to push ourselves, to be the best. It is what I have done my whole life.
There is a song by Radical Face in which it says:
"Peel the scars off my back, I don't need them anymore, you can throw them out or put them in your mason jar, I have come home"
I was thinking about how true this line is.
My body is a canvas. I have scars on my arms and hips from self harm in middle school and high school, I have the word FAT hiding on my right arm underneath my watch, I have tattoos that tell of times that formed me. My feet are calloused from the miles I have ran that have saved my life.
All of these markings tell stories, stories I could not voice because I was always striving for perfection. I refused to let people know my imperfections so I kept the story on my body. I love my body for that but it is also a reminder to me that I cannot keep hiding within myself.
I don't need to keep the stories from my scars, tattoos and callouses a secret. I need to vocalize who I am and rest in the idea that life isn't about being perfect.
Life is about creating an environment that feels safe, safe like a home does.
It is not healthy for people to always to be pushing themselves to the edge.
If we cannot accept ourselves and our flaws how can we accept others wholly? We must first be able to sit alone with ourselves before we can sit with others.
I don't actually think I have a bad juju, I believe I am being told to slow down, to feel pain and be OK with it.
It hurts to hurt, but trying to push through it will only end up causing more harm in the end.
To heal a broken bone we must rest, so I can only believe the same is true to heal a broken spirit.
Evil being the root of mystery, pain is the root of knowledge. -Simone Weil
Powerful post.
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