I am supposed to rest for six months. This was prescribed by my therapist back in February of 2013. I finally passed my first month of rest in December. It only took me ten months.
It’s So Hard
For someone who is a recovering obsessive-compulsive, perfectionist, overachiever, resting feels like being lazy. There are so many things that I need to do (take care of my family being the main one) and then there are the things that I want to do. But just attempting to do the things I need to do are threatening to put me back down.
I Need a Fatter Rope
I feel like I’m trying to balance on a thread as I go through each day when what I really need is a 4″ mooring rope. My energy levels are minimal and I really only have about 2 or 3 good hours of energy each day. I have no reserves to draw on when I have used up my physical and emotional resources for the day. It’s like some just cut the thread I’m standing on.
If I try to push through I end up with vertigo, anxiety and insomnia. The three forerunners of having a relapse. Trying to find my balance some days is almost impossible. I have responsibilities as a mother, grandmother and a daughter of aging parents. Life doesn’t stop just because I can’t function.
I Want It Right NOW!
I know that after over 20 years of dealing with Bip, Pots and the twins it will take more than a few weeks for my recovery. However, knowing it in my head that I’m looking at months of recovery and dealing with the reality of it is so frustrating that I often want to just scream. I am SO done with waiting, but I guess I get to anyway.
I’m going to go pout for about 3 seconds and then I’ll be right back . . . . done.
My mother and I talk a lot about the frustration. There are a lot of, “Do you remember when we could . . . . without a second thought?” It helps to have someone to talk to about it and laugh with. We both have been busily involved in life and miss doing many things.
I don’t mean to whine or complain, people who do that annoy me. Especially when it is me. I try to put a humorous twist into what I write, but sometimes life is just hard. I’m just grateful that I have God and my family to support me through this journey. No matter how you feel, with God you are never alone. I’ve come to appreciate that greatly over the years.
The pity party is over, now go laugh yourself sick!