Fine. I accept that I’ve overdone it. That I haven’t been resting or allowing myself to get better. That I am impatient, frustrated, and sad. But that I need to stop, take a step back, and do nothing but focus on my recovery.
So plans have been cancelled. Work shifts were dropped. The calendar cleared. I am going against everything in my DNA, but I just cannot bear to drag out this recovery any longer, and my actions have only been working against me.
I will not attempt to live my normal life. I will not hang upside down. I will keep my head elevated above my shoulders. I will hydrate and sleep as much as possible. I will do the best that I can to manage my professional life, even though staring at a computer screen and concentrating for too long are challenging.
This totally and completely blows. But I have accepted my fate.
For the past week I have been more or less bedridden as I deal with an unexpected bout of vertigo. (well I suppose something like that is never “expected”, but I digress). For those who haven’t experienced the joys of vertigo, it is quite simply the most debilitating thing I can remember experiencing. I needed — need — help. I worked up the nerve to actually ask for some, mostly related to my dog. But at the end of the day, I didn’t accept any.
I can’t. I don’t know why. For years I have so desperately wanted and needed help in a million different ways. But I rarely, if ever, accept the offers.
Last Friday, I grabbed the dog and set off for South Carolina to visit my grandmother for a long weekend. The visit was lovely, as was the drive — any opportunity to shut off my brain for a while, experience a moment or two of peace, listen to awesome (and crap) music that was clearly meant to be sung at the top of my lungs, and think a few things through. In spite of being physically tired from the road trip I am mentally recharged. Continue reading
A few days ago I decided to undertake the Herculean task of cleaning out my closet. Time to get rid of the old clothes I don’t wear anymore (office attire, anyone?) and clear out some space. This ended up being a lot more difficult than I ever could have imagined – not that I was sad to see the old clothes go or for any kind of sentimental reasons, but rather, in many ways, I realized that (symbolically, anyway) I was cleaning out and getting rid of my old life. Continue reading
Yesterday morning as I dealt with the excitement of filing my taxes, client conference calls and other typical work responsibilities, I was texting back and forth with an old friend of mine. This friend was enjoying “Patriot’s Day” sitting at a bar in Boston while watching the marathon. I teased him about his day drinking; we discussed an upcoming event we both plan to attend. Nothing out of the ordinary, until all of a sudden I had to text to ask him if he was all right based on the fact that a bomb exploded right where he was enjoying his afternoon. Continue reading
April, already? Well, we are a quarter of the way through 2013 and it is safe to conclude that I am still a disaster. A certified, walking/eating/sleeping/breathing/flying disaster. So what’s new, right? Continue reading