I’ve tried reading, listening to relaxing music, watching a documentary, meditating, and breathing. All these activities worked when my brain is restless. But not today. I think it’s my subconscious working overtime not letting me rest until I wrestle with something that it wants me to face and deal with. And I think I know what it is but it’s not something I want to think about just yet. Someone suggested physical activity but at the moment, I don’t think I can start dancing around the flat. Not at this late (or early) hour. I don’t really want to put my neighbours through the baby elephant stomping.
I might have to buy myself some yarn so I can start crocheting again. That always allowed me to clear my mind. It’s time to start crocheting poppies again anyway.
I think tonight, I’ll just have to wait it out and wait until exhaustion claims me. That or try the breathing again. 1. 2.3.4. Hold the breath, 2, 3, 4. Exhale, 2. 3, 4. Breathe in, 2, 3, 4. Hold the breath, 2, 3, 4. Exhale, 2, 3, 4…
You know when you start something new, it feels like you know nothing, you’re completely inept, you feel slow to respond and everything just makes you panic?
Yeah, that was never me.
I always said that I thrived in challenging situations and, as long as it was a learning environment, I would excel. It was something I was proud of. It was one of my strengths that I always counted on. Adversity never really properly phased me. I would always say to people that I would want to be thrown in the deep end so that I could figure out what I had to do. I would eventually start swimming (and I can actually swim in real life!). I could always adapt and adjust. I was quick to do that. I was good at doing that.
Until recently.
I’m still trying to find out exactly when things became difficult when I couldn’t depend on my ability to think. Because surely, there were signs. There must have been a starting point for this descent into this unfamiliar landscape enveloped by crippling uncertainty. In the past 9 months, I would find myself answering questions with “I don’t know!” and for someone who always “knew” this was a terrifying place to be. How could I not know? How could I not figure it out in my head?
Especially during this time, when I was the only person I could count on, how could I not know things.
I’ve been trying to read up on this and every time I type what I’m going through (I guess you can call it my symptoms), Google just keeps coming up with brain fog. Brain fog is generally characterised by confusion, forgetfulness, a lack of focus, and mental clarity. I’d add anxiety, terror, and self-loathing to that list but I guess those are my specific symptoms.
Brain fog is real and is acknowledged and apparently is caused by stress, nutritional deficits, lack of sleep, hormonal changes, medical conditions…if this was a tick box exercise, I’d say I can tick all the boxes
I’ve finally decided to seek professional advice about it. Because saying “I don’t know” no longer works. The more I say I don’t know, the more terrified I become. I cannot not know. I need to know because I can’t function like this anymore. I am never one to make excuses for my shortcomings. I’ve always admitted to mistakes. I am usually the first to say mea culpa. Saying “I don’t know”, to me , is a cop out.
The doctor’s appointment can’t happen soon enough!
Are you going through something like this? Do you have advice? Do you have any short term quick solutions? Any kind of help is welcome!
Spotted: a massive Lindt bunny in the Hampton Court Palace grounds.
Did you see it too?
“Have we ever considered that God is so enraptured with beginnings that He permits the pain of endings so that we can experience the exhilaration of beginnings?” ― Craig D. Lounsbrough
I’ve had a failed relationship, moved counties (to be fair, I didn’t actually move very far from Essex), lost 25 kilos, changed jobs (twice), moved into my own space (twice), and in a few weeks, my failed relationship will be part of a very sad set of statistics. But life goes on!
I’ve had a lot of change and upheaval happen since I last blogged.
I sometimes look at myself, where I am and what I’m doing and I wonder who the hell is looking back at me. There are glimpses of a person who seems familiar, and then there are days when I have absolutely no idea who this person looking back at me in the mirror is.
I’ve been through a lot, even more so in the last 3 weeks. I’ve not been well and like this unshiftable tickle in my throat, I think I’m battling a subsumed mental health struggle. But I think I’m avoiding tackling it because if I tackle it, I’ll unravel, and right now, I can’t unravel.
I tell my mum off for being an ostrich, but bury-your-head-in-the-sand tendencies are very much genetic. I have the worst procrastinator gene and the worst avoid -it until-you-can-no-longer-avoid-it habit.
I don’t necessarily recognise this avoidant behaviour in myself. I’m usually good at facing things head on.
But like the picture below , I don’t recognise myself these days.
Standing on the Quezon Avenue platform waiting for the Pasay-bound MRT train was always a scary experience. Once I finally got on the platform, I always chose NOT to be in front, on the edge of the platform, to be right in front of the carriage doors. I was always scared of being pushed off the platform and falling onto the tracks, in the crush of people wanting to get on the train, even if it was into one of the female-only carriages.
There were several occasions were I didn’t even have to walk to get on the train. I was just lifted off my feet and it felt like I magically floated into the carriage. I remember thinking, “Gosh, this was why they said never to wear slippers, flip-flops, or sandals on the MRT.” Because chances are, you’d lose the footwear if it was loose in crowd-crush situations!
There have been so many times in my life where I have allowed myself to take the path of least resistance, where I didn’t resist someone else’s direction, or I didn’t speak up and share my ideas. Because I thought well, blessed are the peacemakers, right? I didn’t express what I wanted to do, because I would be told it wasn’t a good idea, or that what I wanted to do was something I shouldn’t do, or what I wanted to do would cause an argument, or I would just be wasting my time explaining why I wanted to do what I wanted to do, or whatever it is that I wanted to do would be held over my head in some future discussion, my justifications were endless, and I managed to talk myself out of standing ground and expressing myself.
In hindsight, of course, I know I should’ve had the courage to express my convictions. I should’ve been more considerate of MY own feelings. I should’ve been honest about my thoughts and feelings. I could counter that by saying that when I was honest about my feelings and what I wanted to do, these things were always held against me in future discussions.
There will always be regret for the lost opportunities to be honest and forthright. There will always be regret in passed-on opportunities to stand one’s ground. These are always painful recriminations. But the past is the past. My decisions were made and the actions I took were based on what I thought or felt was best at the time. They may not have been the right decisions, but nevertheless, what has been done has been done. Actions in the past cannot be undone. One can only deal with the consequences of the actions.
Sometimes there is wisdom in following the path of least resistance. Then there are times when you have to “go against the tide”. I feel like I’m in a period of going against the tide – because I’m forging my own path, making my own way and truly deciding what to do with my future, without anyone else controlling me or my environment. I am downright terrified! But at the same time, it has been an exhilarating experience because I finally get to do what I want to do. Sure, if I make the wrong choices, there will be consequences, and, in some cases, the consequences can be catastrophic. But that’s okay. I find it far easier to face the consequences of my actions, rather than facing the consequences of actions I was made to take alone and without support. It is far easier to be answerable to oneself and one’s God, knowing that you made the decisions that led to the consequences.
It’s been quite a difficult few days. It’s been stressful along a multitude of fronts.
With the number 8 figuring prominently in a lot of things. And yes, I’m being cryptic. Mostly because I don’t necessarily want to say much at all. I’m still gathering thoughts and processing emotions (and sorting out the spaghetti bowl of emotions is never a straightforward exercise).
Last week, I received a resounding yes in answer to something that I’ve been praying for for a while (there were a lot of tears and storming the gates of heaven). Then I had to pray for guidance about how to go about having the difficult conversations that would come following the answered prayer. Whilst I don’t think it went the way I wanted because they were never going to be painless, the difficult conversations were had and I feel relieved to have had them and now I can move forward.
I am thankful for my faith. Because I can focus on the knowledge that yes, things are bad, yes things are challenging, but my God has me in the palm of His hand. My God has the perfect plan for me, with the perfect timeline, and all I have to do is trust Him.
So one of the things I always want to do is to read more and I always allow things to distract me from that particular goal. It’s not for the lack of trying. But I think this year, I need to find time to stop looking at my screens. I need to reconnect with the things that bring me joy. I need to find my way back to the things that allowed to me recharge.
Enter my tsundoku. You all know what a tsundoku is right?
Tsundoku is a Japanese term referring to the phenomenon of acquiring reading materials but letting them pile up in one’s home without reading them. For those of us with the never-ending goal of wanting to read, we start these book towers that represent out fervent wish to find time to immerse ourselves in our reading genre of choice.
My current tsundoku isn’t that very tall yet. I hope it doesn’t grow too much. I need to catch up…on last year’s intended reading list!
Yellywelly 