Your body may be gone, I’m gonna carry you in

We’re all very tired today. Even the dogs have spent the majority of the day snoring their heads off. Getting out of your own day to day context and putting yourself in a different physical location can be very freeing, but going away on the weekend can also be bloody exhausting.

I’ve been working today on a post about the changes I’ve made to my Instagram feed recently, and what they might say about where my head is right now, but I need to think on it a bit. So it will probably be posted tomorrow.

We were talking tonight on the call about negative thoughts and negative self-talk. I understand academically the concept that negative thoughts beget negative experience, and positive thoughts beget positive experience. I don’t believe in God, and I’m not a spiritual person, but I do believe in good and bad energy and a vague concept of karma.

But what if chasing that positivity takes energy you don’t feel like you currently have?

When I was first diagnosed I had no trouble at all throwing positivity at all of it. At my terrified thoughts about my own mortality in the middle of the night. At the people who loved me who were worried and terrified on my behalf. At my job, when there was anxiety all around me about how I would cope and a relentless workload. At every single health challenge thrown at me when the news kept getting worse and my body kept working against me.

After a few years of that, though, it became incrementally harder to draw on that positivity. Things started overwhelming me, one by one, to the point where I felt like I had no control over anything (and that lack of trust in my body crept in).

What comes after that, I can tell you, is a kind of numbness. You can’t fall apart so you fall into certain platitudes and hope the veneer you’re showing the world is convincing enough to get you through.

But it can’t work forever. And eventually you do fall apart.

And what then? What I’m doing now, I guess. Trying to find and force the positive. Pushing through the numbness. Working on forming habits. Hoping that repetition and the sheer act of showing up will save me in the end.

This all sounds a bit grim, but it isn’t. It’s just the current state of affairs, and I’m playing the long game.

Tonight I am grateful for the friendly man at the Apple store today who answered every one of my very uneducated questions and gave me actual solutions to my problem.

A positive thing about myself today: I woke up feeling like I had no physical will at all, but I got myself to the gym and found the mental will to push myself. I made it through the workout and even got a couple of new PBs, just by allowing myself thoughts starting with ‘I wonder if I can try…’.

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