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I wasn’t always a bad sleeper.
When we were young and even right up until I left home after high school, we were made to go to bed by 8:30pm. Phone calls (on an actual landline) were not allowed to be made or received after 8am.
I remember thinking it was soooooooo stupid. I wasn’t tired and I wanted to talk to my bestie (and trail the long curly phone cord down the hallway and away from listening ears of course. I mean, we’d be probably talking about that cute boy in class, or something about Jesus. I know the 2 topics seem such a contrast but hey, we were teenagers not nuns).
I’d get up at 6am because I had gone to bed so early. I remember thinking this is weird.
Walking around the shopping centre, with a wee toddler’s little hand in tow, I rushed him across the car park. Suddenly I realised, his poor little feet were pounding the pavement super quick cause I was walking too fast.
Sad mama face.
I slowed down. I went with his pace and even if I wanted to race up to get all the things done, I stopped and slowed it down again.
Your anxiety has you racing fast doesn’t it? (Like when you’re being chased by birds – oh wait, that’s me…anyone else relate?)
It’s June. Mid-year madness around here.
I’ve just finished writing high school reports as part of the requirements of my teaching job and getting over the latest cold.
It’s been a season of surrender and I’m not good at it. I want to do ALL.THE.THINGS but God says, “Not right now.”
So I ignore Him.
I revert back to my default self, like a toddler chucking a temper tantrum. I don’t want to deal with the emotions right now, so I scroll mindlessly, while cosied up under a doona, while hacking up my lungs and dipping bikkies in my tea.
Sometimes all you can do is cry.
Like big ugly, rub all the snot on your grey cardigan kinda cry. (Cause grey oversized cardis with pockets are my jam at the moment).
I mean, you’ve tried negotiating…
Perhaps you’ve even yelled…
Ugh! I am so itchy!
I had gotten to a point where I had scratched up all of my legs because it was insatiably itchy.
My arms were itchy, my legs were itchy, well you get the point. EVERYTHING WAS ITCHY!
So after exhausting all my natural health options I headed off to the doctors.
While there I mentioned my hand with the bumps on it that had been there for months. I had enquired back then with a different doctor and he said ‘oh they are just age spots.’
I said ‘really? Well why are they itchy?’ The doctor replied ‘They can get itchy.’
Fast forward to recent and I thought I would get a second opinion.
Why hello there gorgeous one.
It’s been a month since I’ve been here and it has been nice to get back writing to you all.
You see, I definitely needed the break.
As you know I’ve been sick on and off for a while now. My 2 year old keeps spreading his germs and I’ve been picking them up. Instead of listening to my own advice that I write on here, I just pushed on through.
I was out of alignment.
Yep, that ultra-spiritual word thrown around a lot in the personal development world.
How are you going? Things are going so well here now that I’ve been prioritising my health.
I’m sure you’d understand with anxiety that it can keep you running yourself into the ground, which then results in lowered immune systems and then lowered resistance which then just keeps adding to the anxiety.
It’s like one bad movie on repeat. Playing the same lines to you over and over, making you feel cranky and frustrated.
One of the things though that has really helped me has been seeing the naturopath and seeing where this energy has all been going.
Comparisonitis sucks hey! One minute you’ve popped into Facebook to check that dinner date with your friends and then the next you’re stuck in the vortex of looking at what that famous person has bought, or that friend whose body bounced back straight after having a baby or frothing over your friend’s business which is SUPER successful and she started about 6 months after you.
It’s so frustrating. (Like that one time you left your fav lippie in the car during summer and it melted! *CRY*)
I soooo get it.
I’ve been stuck there for a bit now. In fact, I’ve caught myself day in, day out scrolling mindlessly looking at what others are doing and then researching stuff to help and then falling into a heap at the end wondering if it is all worth it after all.
Hello dear one,
You that is experiencing anxiety. The one who feels like a fraud.
I get it. I soooo do.
This week gone I was asked to give the offering message in Kids’ Church on the topic of generosity.
I started to prepare the message in typical ‘Di’ fashion. Tried to find a cool video clip to engage the kids, or a funny illustration.
But as I spent wayyy too long trying to make the kids like the message I felt God say ‘Tell the truth. Be yourself and I want you to tell that story about Italy and the homeless lady.’
You suck sometimes.
You make me think that I’m not popular or important. This sees me checking my blog posts, newsletter subscriber list and social media on a daily basis. You make me want to see if people like my work. You make me feel like I have to be validated in order to be doing the important work.
Sometimes I want to give up on what I do. I mean, I have been working my butt off after all. Working and not having overly a lot of fun, well, it isn’t fun. The poetry I write these days is all about stillness and craving quiet, yet you provide noise. So much noise.