Adulting is hard. Well, life is hard. And it’s all relative and such but I’ve been dealing with some health issues and had to call in sick and see the doctor. The health issues I’m having are manifesting as obvious physical ailments but at the root of it all is stress and burnout.
I thought at this stage, as an adult in her 40’s, I’m pretty tuned in to my health, my limits and know how to manage and balance my life. And I really think I did. What I did not realize was how the stress creeped up insidiously and caught me completely off guard. The majority of our recent stress has been like the rest of the world due to Covid, the uncertainties and compounded social issues in 2020. We had so many shifts and changes that upended our lives like so many others. But I constantly counted our blessings and powered through it. I was under the assumption that since we did not break down through that period we were probably out of the woods and things were looking up. Us adults were vaccinated and it seemed like the trend was moving towards things getting better. Until they weren’t.
How do we know what to power through and ignore and what to take seriously and pause to deal with? Most are obvious enough. But some sneak up on you. And especially for moms, we barely even acknowledge the signs. It also makes me wonder about how much attention we paid to those signs growing up? Would I, today for example have the capacity to notice the warning signs differently had I been more attuned to it as a kid? That pit in my stomach that I felt then, I still feel it sometimes now. Not the butterflies that make you nervous before something exciting. No, this one is quite different. It grips you with fear, like an old scary school warden telling you to get on with it. Don’t embarrass yourself or be such a weakling. Or maybe it’s not even as harsh. It says don’t stop now, come on, the worst is over, everyone else is working and managing. What is it with you? Get on with it now. Something like that.
Things did happen over the course of growing up. Tragedies that scarred, shaped, and changed me. Some of it forced me to become braver and bolder, but it also layered in more anxieties and personality traits. I coped with most the best that I could, seeking help, changing my lifestyle but I am the sum of all those experiences and the total of the remnant neglected and nurtured parts.
I’m not a single parent or impoverished or in dire straits but we have our own challenges and are trying to build a life, not neglecting today and still building up for the future. So, it’s a lot. And yet when sometimes I want to pause and take a deep breath and retreat and run away to relax so I can rest I feel the guilt come on. I heard from someone wise, this process of life, it is one of growing up, one of healing hurt and trauma that we all have. The act of being born is traumatic in of itself. And so, the rest of our life we work to heal ourselves.
A bit too dramatic? Maybe. A bit preposterous isn’t it that that is all we do in our life. But it is what we do isn’t it? Each day we try to learn and grow and live and deal. And who is the judge? It makes me think of the recent events with Simone Biles. She stepped out of the Olympics. She said she felt the ‘twisties’ which is a lack of spacial orientation. And some comments that she wasn’t feeling it, wasn’t having fun and needed to take care of her mental health were met with a lot of disdain and sarcasm. There were several who supported her but many that taunted her. I cannot even imagine the strength she has to have to deal with the onslaught of her decision to live her life on her terms. Patriarchy and tradition that comes from it is prevalent. Don’t we all have the right to take care of ourselves?
The argument is that we must be able to deal with the pressure and the pain that comes with all the advantages of an endeavor or lifestyle. That’s the rule. And God forbid you step away from that or disagree.
Makes me really think hard about what camp I’m in. Pretty obviously the one about self-care. But what I am so easily able to support for others I struggle with for myself. And maybe even for others sometimes. I’m no saint. Where does one draw the line? – that pushes us to doing great things that come from adversity and the pressure that causes coal to turn into diamonds. What is right and wrong? What is the difference between us letting our fears holding ourselves back or genuine warnings that we need to pause for and pay attention to? What is too much self-care? What is the price to pay? Is it wrong when there’s collateral damage? In my case time off from work puts the burden on the others but I support the others when they need it. In Simone’s case it’s much bigger. Am I pushing my kids too hard or am I addressing their fears with too much cajoling and leniency? Will they grow up unable to deal with the pressures of the world? And what does that really mean?
It’s being talked about a lot everywhere nowadays. The burnout is real and it causes serious health issues when ignored or unattended. We are in awe of people doing so much, such great things. We put them up on a pedestal and worship them and talk about how amazing they are. And so many do okay and continue but so many others break at some point. Or pay some price we don’t know of. But instead we idolize them. One is applauded to have shown the strength of character and nerves of steel and determination to surpass every obstacle. But then, people sometimes fall on the other side of these choices. And when they do, it’s not a fall from grace, it’s not them letting anyone down, let alone themselves. This relentless drive at all costs, should we be applauding it so loud? So much so that if one does not want to kill themselves in this pursuit of greatness, they are shunned and dropped like a hot potato? No one says it out loud but what is blatantly obvious is that by and large not willing to sacrifice one’s well being is viewed as bad and then folks like Simone take the ire for making such a ‘selfish’ decision.
I wish it wasn’t all so hard and I wonder what it is that we must pay for a dream. And I’m thinking maybe it doesn’t have to be so hard. The work yes but the mental toll, maybe it does not have to be so hard. Maybe when I think I want to rest or go for a walk, it doesn’t have to mean I’ve given up, or I’m neglectful or I’m over ambitious. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It means I want to get some sleep, relax and breathe freely. I want to pause and notice I’m living. Maybe I don’t think about tomorrow or yesterday. I just want to be and feel free and feel good and live. And maybe if enough people think that way we can have a culture shift that instead of guilting us towards collapse applauds us for pausing and honoring our health. I am fortunate I have superiors and colleagues who support me but that is certainly not true for everyone and I cannot say it will always hold so for me. Not until it is true for the culture as a whole for our society. Wouldn’t it be so great if we could recognize the insane demands and expectations it places on all people, children, parents, women and mothers and maybe we have policies that do not punish us but reward us for wanting to be healthy. Maybe then we will have a healthier, happier people and the Simone’s of this world are not penalized for taking care of themselves. And the moms of the world know it’s not just okay but necessary to pause.
