Clumps of Dirt, a Memoir.

Have you ever picked up a clump of dirt and then had it fall apart in your hand into smaller pieces? Some days that is what I feel like when I try to pick up the pieces of myself and be whole again. I feel like I have spent so much time in the last 6 months telling myself everything is going to be okay instead of dealing with how broken I feel. Before I continue, I should clarify that this isn’t me whining about my life. This is me acknowledging that sometimes you just cannot pick up all the pieces. Sometimes you have to pick up what you can to start to rebuild and recognize that some of those pieces either aren’t ready to be picked up or maybe they need to be left behind and you’ll find a piece that fits just as well later.

This blog isn’t even a “2020 has been hard” story. We know that, we get it, we all friggin get it. Here’s the deal. I am broken right now, and I don’t know why. Was 2020 and its bullshit the catalyst in me breaking? I have no idea. I actually have started to wonder if in some ways, this year forced me to slow down enough to actually realize there are some things that I haven’t been taking care of within myself. I think this year has forced a lot of us to take a good hard look at life and spend some time alone with our thoughts.

There is the unfortunate reality that I am trying to cope with some mental health issues. I referenced this is a previous blog, but lets just say I am still working on it. Anxiety and depression are definitely not things I anticipated dealing with. I think I have, on some level, always been a high functioning person with anxiety. We can psychoanalyze the hell out of this, but bottom line is that it definitely goes back to when I was a kiddo.

Sadly, when you are dealing with mental health garbage, there is always collateral damage. I have lost friends and had struggles in my relationships with family and friends this year. I haven’t lost my shit on anyone or had a huge fight. I have simply been unable to be as present as I have been historically because I am struggling to be people-y and some days are worse than others. I am 100% positive that in most cases, I have failed to adequately explain to people why I haven’t been as available as I have been in the past. This has lead to hurt feelings and a lot of texts saying “are you upset with me?” Most of the time when I get those, I stare at my phone confused, thinking “what? No!” My own husband, who would move mountains for me, has had to ask this. I will tell you all right now, if you are one of these people who has reached out, I am very sorry that my stress caused you stress. No one deserves that.

Another thing that I have recently realized is that I have not been giving myself the rest that I deserve. A very dear friend has helped me realize that stress is stress, whether it is emotional, mental, or physical. I am taking a little hiatus right now from some of the things that I can. There are things in life that are stressful but are also “have to” things. Those I obviously can’t take a break from, so I am resting my body from intense exercise and choosing to screen calls, texts, Facebook messages, snapchats, Instagram messages, and all the other messages more. It isn’t necessarily that I am not returning them, but I am choosing to return them when it isn’t necessarily an “OMG, I don’t want to deal with this now” moment. I am prioritizing going for walks, reading, getting some extra sleep, and just letting myself feel my feelings. Some days there are A LOT of feelings… those days I am probably more tuned out to the world.

It’s a hard thing, really, choosing to deal with your own mental game of tennis. On one hand, you don’t want to pack up and live there, but on the other, sometimes you have to spend a long weekend there to recognize the underlying issues that lead you there in the first place. It is kind of like saying to yourself, “alright, lets pack up the car for a few days in Bismarck, ND in January.” No disrespect to North Dakota, but I certainly wouldn’t spend a long weekend there in the winter if I didn’t have to.

I keep trying to remind myself that, like all things, this too shall pass. It isn’t always easy, but I am trying to extend some grace to myself for now. I feel like I have to until the clumps of dirt are a little less crumbly and I can pick them up again.