Hit like a Train

5/25/23

Life came at me today like a bullet train. I didn’t choose this for myself, it was chosen for me. I am being forced to slow down and rethink a lot of things. Do I still want to continue with this art form that has pushed me to my breaking point? Is it the art form, or is it the situation? I am not sure what to think anymore.

One thing about me is that I keep going. I kept going, when I really couldn’t. I knew I wasn’t okay, but didn’t even think about stopping. That's my “toxic trait”, I guess you could say. I have not been “okay” for a long time, and maybe that's what I need to come to terms with first. Admitting to myself that I am not okay, and going to therapy and learning a little bit about how to speak up for myself and create healthy coping mechanisms isn’t going to change anything unless I leave the environment that I was broke in. Broke from the beginning. I let myself continue to hurt, because I didn’t know what else to do. The issue was never “ballet” in it of itself, and I know that. And for heaven's sakes, I don’t think it has really ever been my body. It was about going through a crisis that I never really found a way out of, just around. If I continue to be high functioning and do everything I am supposed to, everything will fall into place, I thought. Clearly though that is not the case. And instead of pushing through and trying to fix things by “fixing” them, maybe I just need to allow myself to just survive for a bit. The thing is, that is harder for me. It is hard for me to slow down and relax. It's hard for me to not be okay. Because all I see is a lot of setbacks. But I was promised that nothing will be taken away from me if I come back healthy and strong. I am allowed to rest. It’s just shitty that I have to be told by someone else that I need to do that, and I can’t do it myself.

I was told today that, “I am not a failure”, but the truth is, I am. Maybe not to some people, but to myself. I am not the kind of person to give up, per say, but I was just forced to give up. And you know, “giving up” is maybe not the right way to say it. Because, maybe I just need to stop pushing myself into the ground till I can't breathe, to finally see the sunlight at the surface. Maybe I need to stop digging the hole deeper. The deeper the hole, the darker it gets, right?

I just told a 6 year old that letting yourself rest doesn’t make you a quitter. But, here I am telling myself I’m a quitter. Practice what you preach, god dammit. Having compassion for a 6 year old is a lot easier than myself. Maybe it's because I see myself making a decision with my whole life on the line. And, well, it's not.

My version of health is different from someone else's version of health. I know my body and brain the best, and if someone is telling me at my worst that I am my best, then what am I supposed to do? Especially, when your career relies on it. Do I try to find the balance between “just healthy enough, to be unhealthy” or “just sick enough” in order to keep doing this? Is it worth it? There are a million questions I have about what is next for me, and I personally can’t fathom that right now. All I know is I am being forced to sit down, think, and figure my life out. I guess what I really mean is that I am being required to take the reins on my own life and lead it where I want it to go. I don’t know where I want it to go though, anymore.

Okay, to be real here, I kind of hate that I am good at processing stuff, because I don't really want to. If I can process things well, then I see it as more information that is able to spew at me, that maybe I don't even want to have. It causes more chaos and stress. My tolerance levels are honestly pretty low right now. Not great. And I’m not sure I want to do anything about that right now other than sit here. Maybe that's a bad thing, but I feel ok here. And at this point I just want to feel OK.

So moral of the story, if you don’t deal with your shit, it will come back and bite you. Actually, even if you do deal with it, it still might come for ya. Because guess what? I am not in control, and life apparently didn’t want me to keep digging myself in the hole that I wanted to dig.