Choosing Me

I've had a rough couple of weeks.

You know, the ones that blindside you.

Where you're living life with the plans in your head, the to-do's on your list wielding the control that comes from doing your deal and then, wham...life says, take this and that and because we can, have a little more.

I won't bore you with all of the details...because really, on any given day, we all have our own unexpected series of shit storms to deal with.

But what I'd like to explore is how I cope.  I feel like I've learned a lot about who I am by watching myself operate from the 30,000 foot balcony view.

And here's how it goes down.

Shitty thing happens.

I freeze.  I freeze for a while longer.  I think, no.  Didn't just happen.  It settles.  It did happen.

I stay seated on the couch with my winter coat on staring at the wall unable to be practical, I'm just paralyzed.

Depending upon said shitty thing, I cry or my eyes well up.

I take off coat and knowing that it will take too long for the kettle to get hot, I search for a cookie or a leftover piece of pie or both or the whole pie.

I eat and recount various components of said shitty thing and its aftermath.

I feel sad.  I feel angry.  I feel hopeful.  I feel pissed.  I feel raw.  I feel vulnerable.  I feel alone.  I feel, I feel.

Share shitty news with a few select confidants who remind me that I more than said shitty event and all will be well and that despite my overactive imagination, I'm not alone.

Take hot shower.  Breathe.  Trust.

But despite what I know about who I am, I don't run.  I sleep in every morning for 10 days.  I continue to eat yummy holiday foods and feel badly.

And then, this morning, I wake up and say enough.  The pity party is done.  It's time for healing to begin.  And it must begin by putting one foot in front of the other. 

In anything in my life, I've recovered through activity, not through extensive contemplation.  The answers always emerge in the doing, not in the repetitive re-hashing of it all.

And so, this is what I know about me.  When the shit hits the fan, I become paralyzed.  I don't take care of me.  I stop running, writing, smiling and I start eating, sleeping, and freezing. 

The choice is to choose me, to take care of the me that is resilient, that gets back onto the battle field and that takes the blind leap of faith back into her life.

Here's to the end of 2014, but even better, here's to all that's in store in the new one...one foot step at a time.

Self Sabotage

Self sabotaging behaviors...

You know what I'm talking about, right?

Those things we do...that we're painfully aware of, that habitually rear their ugly heads just when we seem to be making progress in our lives and then, wham decide to throw a wrench in the deal?

For example, if you're a spender, it's that time when you know you should simply pass by the store, but your rationalizing subconscious says, "what will it hurt to just walk in and take a look?"

Or, if you're a procrastinator and you know that something is due by Monday morning at 8 and you say to yourself that Saturday needs to be a day of rest.  You'll get to it first thing on Sunday.  Except Sunday seems to slip away, and you're exhausted by 10pm only to have a huge project staring you in the face.

Or, you're me.  A mama who's been sick for the last 10 days...hasn't exercised at all...is staring down a training program for her first big race and feels deflated...because everything that was working has to be put on hold until she gets better.

And so, in traditional Kelly fashion...I say, "screw it." And want to let my healthy eating habits go by the way side, my mental mojo fall into the toilet and my self confidence peeter away.  Because really, who am I kidding?

It angers me that at the end of the day, we are our own worst enemies.  Most everyone in our lives wants what is best for us.  And usually if we ask, they will support our choice to not spend money, waste time, or get better so, that we can get back to our normal rituals and routines.  

The problem, at least for me, is not in my support system, it's in me.  I have to decide that this will not be a permanent set back and that the practices and behaviors I had in place before were not a fluke.  This race will happen with a fit girl.  I simply have to trust that. 

No more self sabotage.  It's an unnecessary distraction.