I’m Done Waiting

I’m sick. Again. But this time I’m trying hard not to crawl into a “crud hole”, as my children like to call it.

But I’m restless.

I’m aware of a rising sense of anxiety or nervousness: what am I going to do so that the politics of work don’t get to me. I do that too much.

I’ve always done that.

It affects my physical well-being. I know that now…sort of because to accept this means that I’m in control. I’m in charge. I’m the boss of me. I’m not a victim. And, of course, since I am a skeptic at heart, I am often doubtful that I can change myself.

But, the truth is that I don’t need to change myself; I need to accept myself.

I’m sick because I have allowed work conflicts to take over my life. To eat me up inside: to consume me. Instead of dealing with problems in the moment, or not and letting them go, I let them invade my thoughts and feelings

until my body falls sick.

It’s a warning sign, but lately my body is not bouncing back they way it used to. It’s taking longer to get back on my feet and it’s impacting family and friends around me.

It’s wearing me out.

You would think that after a first serious disconnect between my mind and my body, I would have learned my lesson. And, to some extent, I have; I see things differently. It turns out my mom was right, after all: without good health, you have nothing. But it’s also easy to forget those lessons when you’re feeling better.

Can I accept who I am so that I can heal myself?

It’s a scary proposition, so many skeletons in the closet, so much fear to expose. I’m not going to deny that I’m not thrilled to embark on this journey. What is that expression about the evil you know vs. the evil you don’t know?

Habits are hard to break, especially those habits that serve to protect me, but not in a way that heal and serve me well.

Accepting myself means being curious about myself, about what might be the origin of my triggers. How can I examine them and acknowledge them in order to make peace with them, and then move on with my life?

My husband is waiting.

My children are waiting.

I’m done waiting.

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