Crawl If You Must
Just a note to let you know I'm alive.
It's been a rough week. Not of the serious variety, but of the daily pile-up-of-so-many-things kind. I'm staggering a bit, trying to get my feet steady underneath me so I can move forward with my load. The anxiety builds throughout the morning, I get a bit of a breather midday, and then by evening I'm battling depression.
Terence says the problem is I expect perfection from myself. To a certain degree it's true. (Do you know how insane it is that I expect perfection from myself as a driver? When I spend so much time in the car every day driving in such less-than-ideal circumstances? A good deal of my anxiety in the morning comes from my time behind the wheel.) But the problem is so much is depending on me. So many people are depending on me. I can't drop the ball.
But even little things seem like too much to bear right now. (For example, J starts school next week and apparently I have to participate in a 10 minute phone conference with J & each individual teacher. That's six phone conferences. Scheduled sometime during Monday and Tuesday when I'm not driving. Somehow.) Facebook keeps posting a "reminder" that I haven't updated my author page in two weeks-- and that just feels like one more brick on my shoulder. Which is just silly. If I don't update the author page, who will keel over and die? Nobody!
Sometimes the only thing you can do is keep plodding forward. Even when you're exhausted. Even when you are finding it hard to breathe because your chest hurts. Even when at night you start to wonder why you are bothering to do anything at all.
I have a wall hanger for my race medals, and it sums up my attitude toward running (and life), especially these days:
I am alternating between running, walking, and crawling. Depending on the time of day. But I'm not giving up.
(But please, if the next couple weeks would just pass quickly. I think if I can just settle into a new routine a lot of the stress will melt away!)
It's been a rough week. Not of the serious variety, but of the daily pile-up-of-so-many-things kind. I'm staggering a bit, trying to get my feet steady underneath me so I can move forward with my load. The anxiety builds throughout the morning, I get a bit of a breather midday, and then by evening I'm battling depression.
Terence says the problem is I expect perfection from myself. To a certain degree it's true. (Do you know how insane it is that I expect perfection from myself as a driver? When I spend so much time in the car every day driving in such less-than-ideal circumstances? A good deal of my anxiety in the morning comes from my time behind the wheel.) But the problem is so much is depending on me. So many people are depending on me. I can't drop the ball.
But even little things seem like too much to bear right now. (For example, J starts school next week and apparently I have to participate in a 10 minute phone conference with J & each individual teacher. That's six phone conferences. Scheduled sometime during Monday and Tuesday when I'm not driving. Somehow.) Facebook keeps posting a "reminder" that I haven't updated my author page in two weeks-- and that just feels like one more brick on my shoulder. Which is just silly. If I don't update the author page, who will keel over and die? Nobody!
Sometimes the only thing you can do is keep plodding forward. Even when you're exhausted. Even when you are finding it hard to breathe because your chest hurts. Even when at night you start to wonder why you are bothering to do anything at all.
I have a wall hanger for my race medals, and it sums up my attitude toward running (and life), especially these days:
I am alternating between running, walking, and crawling. Depending on the time of day. But I'm not giving up.
(But please, if the next couple weeks would just pass quickly. I think if I can just settle into a new routine a lot of the stress will melt away!)
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