I have always felt weird calling myself a writer - it never felt right or appropriate. But, I am a writer. And as a writer, there are times when I feel called to put a story into the world - a story that will positively impact the world by impacting one or more people. The story I am about to tell you is one that requires vulnerability and courage, but I know that the truth sets you free, so I know that I have to say these words.
This story will involve discussions of self-harm - if that is something that will be particularly painful or difficult for you, I suggest you either 1) not continue reading or 2) create the right conditions to help you work through any potential emotions that may overtake you.
The past few months have been some of the most transformative probably in my life. The end of this phase has come with tremendous joy and dreams that are terrifying because they are so big- this phase also had some low points and a very dark day.
Beginning in, about the middle of August, I started driving toward burn-out. The period of time started off busy, and only seemed to get busier and more full over time. And it happened in a way that sort of surprised me. I have always been “busy” but I normally have a good handle on my capacity to meet all the various deadlines and manage all the things. But this time was different, I lost control over my schedule very quickly and by the time I realized it, it was too late to reel anything back in. It very quickly got to a point of working 13-14 hour days, sleeping 4-5 hours a night, and barely eating because there just wasn’t time. Even with all the hours I was working, I was still getting behind - since I’d planned that period of time intentionally, the rapid and unexpected growth in one area of life took away space for other things. I felt like I was on a never-ending hamster wheel where the wheel was getting faster and I was only going slower.
Toward the end of September, I thought I needed to change something - I didn’t yet know when or what it would look like, but I knew this wasn’t going to work much longer. I was constantly tired and overwhelmed and was not showing up as my best self more often than not. I felt like a bad everything - friend, daughter, boss, and girlfriend. This guilt made the wheel go faster and, as I felt my bonds having issues, I was going even slower and getting more tired.
On my birthday, September 29, I hit the wall. Hard. I was still in the little sleep spiral and I’d go to bed around 2 or 3 AM and wake up as late as I felt okay doing. I think this was a 9:00 AM or so wake up - I knew I had some work to get done and I had a virtual training at noon. I had mostly decided on the content for the session but still wanted to work out a few kinks (it was the first time I was doing this content). About mid-way through the morning, I was frustrated about something that I don’t remember and got into an argument with my boyfriend (which is not incredibly normal for us these days, but it was normal in this time period), and I just couldn’t take anything anymore. At all.
So I go in the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the shower then started crying. I cried tears that came from my soul. Tears that made my body shake. Tears that felt like they just might neer end. Tears that took my breath away. In retrospect, I am fairly certain I experienced an anxiety attack. But back to the floor. As I am crying, I am still trying to be mindful of the time, because I’ve got that session at noon.
For a few seconds longer than I can even process, I had a desire manifest as a thought. I thought that maybe I could hurt myself - not enough to die but enough to go to the hospital and have a break. A break that no one could impede on and a break that no one would make me feel bad for. A break that wasn’t going to be filled with apologizing for being late on something or behind on something else. A break that came with peace. My front brain jumped in and I thought - “oh fuck, this needs to change”. A week later I made a big change that came with a significant decrease in time.
I spent the next few weeks trying to catch up on everything I was behind on, tried to sleep a little more, and tried to feel like myself again. It started to feel like the hamster wheel slowed down and caught up to my speed. I was still, well am still on the wheel, but it is getting more manageable and I can start to see the shift from hamster wheel back to road.
In his new book, which I seriously cannot recommend enough, Will Smith talks about suffering and our ability to make meaning of it. I am incredibly fortunate to have made meaning out of my suffering really quickly (more quickly than I have even been able to fully come back from). First, I have been able to see empathy in action - and the opposite. I have had some folks in my life step up for me in ways that helped push me through. And I have experienced folks sort of surprise me with their apathy and impatience. Although the latter made a few difficult decisions much easier.
I also learned that Will was right about something else - the universe is not logical, it’s magical. It feels like the universe thanked me for choosing myself. When I choose to stop betraying myself to please others, the universe dropped a bunch of knowledge nuggets that are going to change the world. I jumped up Maslow’s hierarchy up to self-actualization and I see the world differently from up here. My purpose in life became crystal clear and boulders are moving out of the way to help me get there. Everything isn’t easy or perfect or pretty, but things do feel more true to me. Even writing this - I didn’t initially feel safe to bear this part of my soul out into the world, but the intersection of my values, love & courage, requires me to tell this part of the story. And because of that, and because the universe is moving like it is, I know that this part of my story will positively impact someone in this world who will positively impact someone else and on and on from there.