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?