I am predictably unpredictable.
Or unpredictably predictable. Maybe both.
Sure, I should take full responsibility for this unwanted state my life has become. Should, being the operative word, which, by the way, I’ve been trying not to use the S-word but I do, much to my dismay, I sadly do.
I know me. Well, kinda, because I am a work of art, not yet complete.
Aren’t we all?
Perhaps predictable is the wrong word. See, that’s part of the problem, I just don’t know much these days.
There’s been too many plates to juggle, so I crashed.
I keep forgetting I’m not a superhero. I keep trying to be everything to everyone and before I know it, crash crash baby.
Only, life doesn’t stop just because my body forces me to stop. Invisible health issues, the kind that I, as well as many others have, don’t give you a free pass when the wheels keep turning and your body won’t let you keep up.
It’s a constant struggle having to hide your fatigue and pain all the time because who the hell wants to whine about the way they feel? Ok, a lot of people do but I’m not on that team. I’d rather paste a smile on and swallow my misery instead of pulling out the fibromyalgia card.
It’s a double-edged sword, I can whine and complain or I can push through and hide the way I sometimes feel when I’m on a downward spiral.
Either way, I’m screwed. Nobody wants to listen to a whining whiner on one hand, and on the other hand, I push myself until I can’t push any more then get called out for not saying how I feel when I’m not feeling well.
Last thing I expected when I went to the doctor was for my blood pressure to be low. 80/60 weren’t the numbers I was shooting for, especially considering if anything, my blood pressure rises sometimes but that’s just because I’m a fiery red-headed Irish woman. I tend to get overly emotional and my body follows. Stress multiplies everything, especially when you’re me, an emotional sponge with codependent issues which lead me to put myself in everyone’s shoes and take on their bad.
Unfortunately, I seem to find it harder to take on their good.
That all makes sense in my head, forgive me if I lost you there. Understandable, since I seem to have once again lost myself.
So I’ve sent out an interior search team, in the hope of getting myself back.
I know I’m in there somewhere, I’ve been picking up little bits and pieces, following clues as if on a treasure hunt. Because I am a treasure.
I just need to remember that when I lose myself.
And it might be a good idea to, this time, brush up on my mapping skills.