On little failures

When did we decide that one mistake can tear down the world?

We can all be too hard on ourselves sometimes, but I’ve always been a constant bully to myself. I feel like I’m finally recovering from this nonsense. Still, back slides happen. This weekend I was wrecked, frustrated, drained and frankly fed up with the boredom surrounding me. As I yelled at my partner “but it is my fault” he gave me confused and exhausted eyes. This shit wasn’t my fault. It was his issue. I just didn’t know how to help yet.

Later he said: “You are so brutal to yourself ”

“Too hard” on myself  I’d heard over and over, but “brutal”?

He was right. I was ready to resort to the old habits of brutalising myself. Why? Because I was just too god damn tired.

That was it. I was burnt out. And when given the opportunity to blame a plethora of external factors that really were fucking with my body and my life, I chose to tell myself I wasn’t being tough enough.

So, when did we decide little failures were the end of the world? When did life become a series of tick boxes labelling us as successful or not?

I don’t know about you all, but this week I’m giving myself credit for all those times I didn’t backslide. All those times I didn’t hurt myself in some way, just to prove I could control something.

As for little achievements, I have recently:

Worked when tired.

Kept working despite being exhausted.

Scheduled a sleep in.

Asked for help.

Played with the cats, just because it makes me feel happy.

All those movements when I didn’t drink, binge, purge, cut, talk about how much I suck. Yeah, those. Definitely those.

How about you?

 

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