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When the world is just too much
Do you ever feel like there’s just too much sometimes? Of everything? For me, I’m continuing to fight the darkness creeping in, trying to take things one day at a time and not take on too much. But the anxiety knocked me down for the count lately, and I burrowed back in my hole. Not the deepest, darkest, hole, but one where I only let in the things that I can handle. And what I can handle one day can be completely different than the next. Some days I can handle socializing but nothing else. Somedays I can handle content creation but nothing else. Some days I can paperwork and financial stuff but nothing else. And on and on.
Most days I have to take a running leap to tackle the things I’ve been putting off, and all the energy that was used for that is the only energy I can expend. Then I’m done for a while. I’m trying to find ways of at least “doing” something in whatever state I’m in. Whether it’s working on answering messages while in my pyjamas in my bed, or laying on the floor answering emails, or sitting on the bus working on these confessions, I try to fill my time with something productive, in any capacity I can. But I always feel behind. I always feel like I’m missing the mark, and that my pile just gets bigger with every task I accomplish. It’s hard to think about what to let go of, because I don’t want to regret it one day, but I know I’ll regret dropping the ball, too. I just feel so stuck and paralyzed, and that can take a lot out of me sometimes.
Even the things I do that I think will give me energy can sometimes end up being a draw instead of a recharge, but I don’t realize it until I’m done. I am trying. I am really trying.
But the smallest and weirdest things can set me off during this period. Like, yesterday, I realized I forgot some cheese that someone had bought for me at their house. That almost put me into tears. Partly because I can’t afford to buy my own and was looking forward to cooking with it, but also because of those old thoughts of feeling like a forgetful failure who can’t do anything right. A worthless, scatterbrained airhead. All because of the cheese. And I know it goes back to a lot of trauma around my forgetfulness, and that there is a logical reason for that reaction, but I wish I could just get over it.
And let’s not forget financial stress. That one is constant, because there’s always something that I’m doing wrong when it comes to bills or applications for financial aid or forgetting to add money to my account and getting dinged with hefty NSF fees that could have gone to something else. All because I was too scared to act on something that I knew was important. Even when I have money, all I can think is all the debts that I have to pay down with it. I’m sick of struggling. I want to thrive but when I do it freaks me out and makes me hide because it doesn’t feel real or deserved.
I have a feeling most of these confessions are going to be quite dark and sad for the next few months as we complete our trip around the sun. I’m trying to remember my strategies and reach for peace, and not protaskinate the day away, but it’s hard because thinking about doing things is like hanging on to an electric wire. The more behind I feel, the stronger the current, and the harder it becomes to want to touch it.
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“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him.”
~ Romans 15:13