I really need sleep. It’s amazing how when our natural circadian rhythm or our REM cycle is off, how much less progressively we function in life. Lo and behold, I can hear someone overtly breathing in my presence with little sleep and I am likely to implode under the bottled anger pent up in my heart. You know how many moms and dutiful spouses I know who seemingly are balancing it all? Working, cooking, cleaning, wrangling the kids, keeping to a schedule, and not ever fucking uttering a complaint? They have to go through an arduous work day, keep everything spic and span in the household, and then listen to everyone else bitch and moan about every grievance in their life. So help me god there are some days when every fiber of my being is in pain from overworked and over trained muscles, I’m emotionally exhausted and adrenally fatigued, and I gotta hear about one more minor twinge. But I digress, this is just my lack of proper sleep playing mind games with me, and a lot of this is just me being on edge anyways. Turns out, all an avalanche needs to go cascading down the mountain is just one more little snowflake to teeter on top of its weighted snow pile.
I signed up for this, I know. And I really do love my profession and what I get to do. But I am so hard on myself, that I take being my own worst critic way too far. I tend to get in these moods every so often where it feels like there is nothing I can do that is right and then I denigrate myself and feel so stupid for not being able to fix my mistakes. I try really hard, but a lot of the time it feels like nothing I do is ever good enough. I know that I can chalk a lot of this up to overworking and under-resting, but I absolutely loathe not being perfect in all my athletic and personal endeavors. There are plenty of people who naturally understand the flow of things and grasp new concepts with ease. I am not one of those people and I can’t help but feel a twang of envy and jealousy when I struggle an incredible amount for a minuscule ounce of progress. I tell myself it is a marathon, and not a sprint, yet I am over here pissed as fuck that the tortoise is so chill while racing the hare. I am over here frazzled as heck and twitching with anticipation and anxiety at the thought of being outpaced and outworked. You know, now that I think about it, this is probably a major component in what is effecting my restful night’s sleep. Guess I gotta hope that Mr. Sandman dumps a load in my eyes like I’m August Ames gearing for a close up.
I get up and grind and get shit done because I know my duties and obligations and the tasks I need to accomplish. I have big dreams for myself and I won’t rest until I reach them, though I should probably sleep a little bit. And sometimes it feels like no one ever cares to listen when I’m having a bad day, but I’m always expected to be the shoulder for everyone else to cry on. I am starting to crack under the pressure of always holding everything in and I am not okay 24/7. Sometimes you’re the pigeon, and sometimes you’re the statue. So when do I get to shit on someone else? There’s a subreddit somewhere out there for this, right? Meanwhile this crap keeps piling up on top of me and I guess I’m just expected to bear the burden of excessive excrement and stand tall like a marble stature. Unless it’s one of the countless statues being torn. down in the day and age of 2020 where everything is offensive. These expletive-laced blogs with references to shit and porn have guaranteed pissed off some sensitive Karen out there, but I will keep trudging along to air out my grievances and express my thoughts because honey badger truly don’t care.
Today, however, has been a good day. When I started writing this blog a few days ago, I was one sentence way from a total emotional breakdown and a flurry of tears. Today, I had plenty of coffee blacker than the depths of the coldest soul and I baked some muffins. Cooking is my happy place and a good therapeutic tool for me to use. But yeah, that’s life for you. Chock full of good days with a smattering of bad days, and when we are consumed within the bad days, it can sometimes be hard to remember the good. A few days ago, I would have commiserated how awful the rest of my week would be, and constantly consider myself a failure, as a partner, athlete, fighter, and parental figure. Today, it’s almost hard to believe how so very mean to myself I was. Turns out, I’m not always the statue being defecated on, but sometimes the statue people look to and admire with respect. I need to remind myself that I am enough, and that I am trying the best that I can.
I can’t wait to get a restful night’s sleep tonight and to start my training anew tomorrow. And hopefully I won’t need to be bitch slapped by some Ambien in order to sleep soundly. The other day, I asked on my social media for examples of times people didn’t give up, and I was blown away with the responses. IF people can make it through that, surely I can make it through a few sore muscles and nagging injuries with a lot of responsibilities on my plate. This plate is packed full of nutrients and it’s up to me to pace myself as I consume them and reap the benefits and rewards. Life is a fantastic rollercoaster of a journey, and I look forward to overcoming more obstacles that threaten to stand in my way and desecrate the statue that is me. As Jocko says, anytime you are in pain, you should be thankful as it means you are alive with another chance to overcome and prove how strong you are. Although there will still be plenty of bad days in my future, the good will continue to persevere and remind me of the strength it took to conquer and overcome. I am not done yet, and no matter how many tears I may shed in the years to come, the smiles will drown out that which threatens to dampen my being.
The muffins that made me happy