out of balance

February has proved to be a bit of a bruiser. The month of January felt pretty refreshing after the holiday season, but the calendar turned again to another month and the winds sort of left my sails. There have been a number of issues out of my control, but quite a few of them well within my control, and – for me at least – knowing that I can control some outcomes, but not necessarily managing to do it, is another level of stress entirely. Some people have to push themselves into action. I have to constantly monitor and check that I’m allowing enough time for inaction. I have to turn off the over-thinking.

I am struggling here – there are so many things moving around in my head that I can’t get anything done. I constantly find myself wishing to stretch out the days a little longer. Or who am I really kidding here? A lot longer. I’d add hours and hours and hours to each one, because somehow I’ve convinced myself that if I had more hours I’d fill them up with all the things that I’d love to do if I could just get around to it. I know that idea is foolish – would I really take advantage of those “bonus” moments in the way that I think I would? For pleasure, for progress, for sleep, even? Doubtful. Why can’t I seem to back myself up in this equation – to start from where things currently stand – the number of hours in a day – and let them be just what they are and nothing more? I think this is so very, very hard to do, especially for a multi-tasker like me. It’s hard to let the day go, and just be done – without tackling just one more task, and then another.

I am contemplating a very significant (and very scary – for me) surgery, and in this period of time between consultation and decision, I’m really struggling. I know myself very well – will I be able to step back for an extended period of time and let myself rest and heal? I wasn’t very spectacular at managing my own expectations following the birth of two children, so what makes me think I can do this now, at this point in my life? I feel like I’ve lost the ability to trust in the process, in the result, in the knowledge that more than likely everything will turn out just fine. I’m not back to that point yet, which makes the thought of days and weeks and months of a very different “me” so daunting, and difficult to imagine. And it makes the days before that time feel uncertain and out of whack.

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