Just like that the year is nearly over. In what feels like the blink of an eye, the exhale of a breath, the time that’s past stares down the barrel at us and we’re left to tie up loose ends, make sense of all the little moments and memories. We find ways to preserve them so that we might begin to prepare for the next cycle around the moon, almost guaranteed to feel faster than the last. As children, the year feels impossibly, unmanageably long and often dull as we wait for the bright lights and late nights and color and freedom of summer, that fleeting time filled to the brim with opportunity and life. This goes away as we get older–at least the fullness and freedom of it; months blur into one another and with no circumscribed off-time, it becomes a life skill to maintain presence and joy and gratitude for each and every moment we’re given–whether “free” or not.
*
I am utterly, properly exhausted. It was a busy weekend: friends and their little one visiting from out of town, a wedding, and our own engagement photoshoot–an event that has been nagging at me since the moment after I said yes. Every year I seem to forget that after the sleepy transition from summer to fall, life only catapults forward– faster, full speed ahead, no stops. Every day I seem to forget that normal occurrences have the potential to suck the life out of me and send me over the edge and I must pay special attention to my self-care practices in order to regulate myself.
Because our societal relationship with and understanding of mental health is so …convoluted? wishy washy? damn confusing? It’s not altogether surprising that I often find myself unsure as to why I’m feeling or reacting a certain way in situations and circumstances that are outside of my normal routine. It is, however, highly frustrating that it takes a full blown toddler-like come apart with hyperventilating sobs and angry remarks for me to realize I am just effing d r a i n e d and need to take some steps back to not only take big, intentional care of my whole self, but to also assess my emotional wellbeing.
i am not crazy
While it is not necessarily “helpful” in any way, it is comforting to remember that I am not crazy or losing my mind when I experience what feels like an absolute meltdown over what outsiders might see as surface-level trivial matters. Often when I am lost in my own mind and crying so hard it’s difficult to breathe, I become overwhelmed at my overwhelm and judge myself so harshly that sometimes I cry harder. I gaslight myself as I recount the events or situations that have seemingly sent me over the edge and chastising, I tell myself that I’m just being dramatic; there is no need to be responding so outwardly, so loudly. None of this is conscious until much later when the storm has settled and I’m examining the rubble and destruction around me. It is then that I remember I do not have a “normal” (neurotypical) mind and thus my threshold for activities and goings on that keep me safely away from any given ledge frequently looks different.
“i can’t read your mind, hannah”
One of the biggest issues I have found lately is the juxtaposition of my inherent ability (and stubborn autonomy) to do things that need to be done myself…and the fact that I find myself frequently, easily overwhelmed. It feels like cheating or a cop-out to ask for help in many situations because I don’t want to burden anyone with things that feel stupidly simple, especially when everyone is busy with lots going on.
Shortly after Manuel proposed, he told me that the only thing he cared about throughout this whole planning process was that I don’t get overwhelmed. A statement I couldn’t help but smile at hearing because he knows that most days I wake up with a rushing awareness of my never ending to-do list. His adamance is a testament to his love for me though because he repeats it at least once a week. The problem is, for some reason, for this particular event, this hugely important day in our lives both independently and together, I’ve been willingly drowning because I want everything to be perfectly just right. Most recent example: engagement photos.
What I wanted that whole thing to look like (with the planning and the doing and the actual end result) is what I see all over my various feeds–fun, relaxed excitement organizing a little photoshoot with my favorite person and a talented friend with cute, coordinated, and candid shots to show for it. What it actually looked like was weeks of dread and overwhelm, anxiety and avoidance coupled with several days (each many hours) of shopping for The Perfect Outfit pretty much up until we arrived at the agreed upon location. As the event drew nearer, it became clearer to Manuel that what he thought I had been either mildly impartial to or even enjoying, I was actually pulling my hair out. As we were rushing to get out the door (still 30 minutes late, sorry Parker) and I was getting snippy, Manuel gently told me, “I had no idea this wasn’t fun for you. If I had, I would’ve offered to take point. But, Babe, you have to tell me because I can’t read your mind.”
it’s ok; all of it
For much of my life, I’ve harshly judged and scrutinized and wondered and metaphorically dissected just about every stimuli I interact with. My never-ending question–for everyone and everything–my favorite inquiry, so much on my mind that I wear it on a signet ring on my right middle finger: why? Why did she say it like that? Why am I feeling so anxious? Why am I so tired all the time? Why do I frequently feel like everything is completely out of control? Every day that I’m alive I have a perpetual checklist somewhere handy (but not always readily in reach) in the back of my mind. The moments that are unplanned appear like a challenge–what can you do to occupy yourself? How can you use this time to your advantage? I am terrified of silent stillness, perhaps because I fear getting sucked in and lost to the depths of my thoughts. Yet, I am learning every day, every month, every year to be better at being present in my days and moments, in my humanity. I strive to simply accept what is just because it is; there doesn’t always have to be a reason and I don’t always get to know (or need to) why. All of it is ok.
*
A short list for now. Most likely a little jumbled and disjointed, but rather indicative of this current time as I continue to ebb and flow externally and churn, bubble, and contemplate on the inside. Constantly striving for balance and tranquility, frequently coming up short, incessant reminding to wholeheartedly love myself anyway.
