Showing up, amidst it all.
On admitting I am not well and finally, honoring my state of exhaustion and overwhelm.
Amidst Waffle’s health scare last week, I got all sorts of backwards (and forgot to share this essay) so here we are, Wednesday, June 1st, with a week amiss. Messing up my schedule is becoming my thing. Although as of late, nothing really seems to be my thing other than eating ice cream bars and crying. The rhythms of my usual existence are anything but timely right now.
This morning, I couldn't even get through our daily walk to see morning friendship without an interruption. A mere twenty steps from the door, an unexpected thunderstorm clapped above us and as it poured, both Waffle and Tug turned back to go inside. I, however, wanted to keep going, even in the torrential downpour. I wanted to have something normal - anything normal – just one thing that felt normal – but since I always honor their choices, we headed back home.
My life feels scattered and interrupted all the time right now - like I'm planning for my best self – like I’m doing all the right things to set myself and my health up for success and then suddenly there’s an unexpected thunderstorm.
The world feels like that too. We are all trying - trying - desperately trying to rebuild community, connection and continuity after two panic-stricken and volatile years. And then, just like that, we don’t even feel safe to go grocery shopping or send our kids to school. In just one week there have been two mass shootings. Two shootings in one week. A kid can’t even be a kid in this world right now.
I don’t have the exact words for how I am feeling about it. I also don’t have words for the state of this world as a whole. I can barely string a few paragraphs together without feeling upside down. All I know is that as I consume the news and tributes of nine and ten year olds, I find myself shrinking further into the sofa cushions and becoming increasingly paralyzed by all that I see.
The news feels too heavy. The world feels too divisive. And holy hell, I feel too tired to process any more of it, never mind get up from my pile of ice cream bar wrappers on the couch to fight to change anything.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Feelings are not facts. Feelings do not dictate my actions. I dictate my actions so I will fight. I will absolutely fight to change this world. But at this moment, my fierce desire to do so does not change the deep seated exhaustion and overwhelm that have begun to consume me. My determination to make this world better does not eradicate the malaise and depression that plague my mornings and haunt my nights. Simply put, my resolve to change this world does not give me the stamina to do so.
And this – this is what I want to share with you today.
That is okay.
Although feelings are not facts and we will fight the many injustices of the world at some point, we cannot do so if we do not have ourselves in tact first.
We must honor our feelings right now. We must be brave enough to admit that we are not well. We are not well. Because only then, only when we courageously admit that — can we finally show up for ourselves and care for ourselves enough to heal our humanity and this world around us.
It is its own kind of scary to do so – to admit we are unwell and then care for ourselves unabashedly — to bravely believe that we are worthy of compassion in times of crisis and heartbreak. I get it. I live that fear too. How can I be worthy when children are being murdered? How can I be deserving when so many are suffering far more severely than I?
Those doubts will swirl. I promise you that. But that does not change how critical it is that we still care for ourselves right now in face of them. That does not change that we are all on the precipice of a breaking point - a shattering of soul - a total implosion of being.
And so, today, we must find ourselves in the work that matters most - in the honoring of our humanity — in the surviving, the cultivating of compassion and the resting of our weary souls.
Yes, as trite as it may sound, we must save ourselves first so that one day soon — one day very soon — we can rise again, leave our ice cream wrappers and the couch behind, and make that difference.
May you honor yourself this week with whatever it is you need. And, if you - like me - don’t know exactly what that is – may you stay gentle and kind with yourself all the while as you try to figure it out.
With love and solidarity,
Kate
The May zoom for The Patient is in will be tomorrow night, June 2nd at 7:30pm EST (don’t worry, the irony of the may zoom in June is not lost on me).
The Patient is in is our monthly meeting devoted to discussing mental illness subjects of interest and fostering community amidst hardship.
The format for this zoom will be different from the last.
For the first half an hour, we will be discussing fatigue and strategies to manage it.
For the second half, we will do our first solidarity sanctuary. A solidarity sanctuary is a judgement free community meeting devoted to collective healing through storytelling.
No one is required to participate and no one is required to have their camera on. That said, those who feel like sharing are absolutely encouraged to do so.
Stories can be told out loud, shared in the chat or shared anonymously by submitting them in this form here.
It is paramount to note that this group is not a support group and not managed by a licensed therapist. It is a peer support group only.
The patient is in is only open to paid subscribers. See below for the zoom invite and the google form that you must fill out to receive your WAFFLE STRONG dad cap.