Small and Tired

Origionally published 24th April, 2016

Today I am feeling small and tierd. I’ve actually been feeling that way for the last couple of weeks.

Scrap that. I feel small and tired all the time. I can acknowledge that what I have done and what I continue to do takes strength, from an intellectual point of view, but inside? I’m still just little old me.

I cancelled a Skype talk with a friend tonight. I didn’t go to church this morning. I was so glad some friends couldn’t have us over on Saturday. I bailed out of coffee with a friend on Friday. I can’t quite bring myself to say how long it’s been since I had a proper shower. I’ve had to put more than one washed laundry load through on the 15 minute cycle because it had been sitting in the machine too long. I cancelled seeing a friend on Monday afternoon and then cried over the phone to my husband. I slipped back into bad coping strategies this week.

I see a whole lot of failure. I see a whole lot of letting people down. I see a whole lot of weakness.

If someone in a like position came to me, upset because they were feeling a failure, I would be able to list all the things they’d done this past week, all the ways they’ve fought and stood their ground, all the ways they’ve continued to be brave, all the two steps forward they’ve taken to their one steps back … Somehow I just can’t give the same grace and understanding to myself.

I’ve been trying hard recently to show myself love and care, to extend the same understanding to myself that I freely give to other people, to at least give myself some slack and allow myself to have a bad day.

It’s a slow process. It’s a hard process. It feels so often like it goes against everything I should be thinking. But it is a process.

So yes, I’m feeling tiny and am just so exhausted of fighting.

But you know what? I’m still fighting. Whether I can forgive myself for what I think went wrong this week or not, I am still here, I am still fighting and tomorrow is still going to come … although hopefully after a night of nightmare-free sleep.

We’re still here and we’re still fighting.

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