(This was written on Sunday but I just got around to typing it today)
I’ll see if I can find the right song to accompany this post but at the moment, I just have to write.
I’m at a low point right now. I really thought I’d feel better than I am at the moment and the fear that this will last is nibbling at the edges of my optimism.
My monkey brain keeps yelling at me that I need someone to take care of my. It keeps getting angry that there’s no one here with cuddles and soup (monkey brain conveniently ignores that I don’t really like soup). Monkey brain yells that there should be someone here to pop the heat pack in the microwave, to get me a blanket, to sooth me. Monkey brain doe put a face to this ‘someone’ and the face is not actually someone I want to see right now.
Monkey brain keeps saying that things would be all better if this person was here but monkey brain is ignoring the reminders from people brain that I can’t recall the last time this person actually took care of me. More than that, though, is that monkey brain forgets (or ignores) the fact that at the end of the day, we can’t rely on anyone to take care of us except ourselves.
This isn’t to say that people can’t care for others but you can’t expect someone else to make everything better. That expectation is what leads people to jump into new relationships without resolving the issues from the previous one. They’re unable to spend the time alone to properly mourn and learn to just be with themselves. It’s too big, too scary.
The thought that no one can make this all-better haunts me some days, especially lately when a quick trip to the shops leaves me tired. More than anything right now, I’d love that comforting illusion, that I could just stop and let someone else handle things for a while.
But it is an illusion and a dangerous one at that because it invalidates my own abilities to cope; it’s accepting that I’m not enough as is. And that’s a lie.
Because while I may not be able to make my own way to the shops I have friends who are willing to help, Friends who love me for who I am and friendships that I maintain by being who I am.
And if the gibbering monkey retorts that friends are often busy, well the response is that I have several other sources of support that I can explore. These range from internet communities I’m a member of to things as practical as arranging to have groceries delivered.
It may chafe my pride, it may cost a little extra but there are options.
And at the end of the day, if plan A fails, if plans B, C & D all fail, what remains is me. I have myself at the very last and all that I am or could be is actually a formidable resource.
Monkey brain may try to convince me that I’m alone, that the future is scary and bleak but the truth is that the future is unformed, undetermined and I have everything I need within me to deal with whatever comes.
This includes the ability to sacrifice pride and to admit that I may need help, that I am scared, that the most valuable help might be a hug and some reassurance that I’m still okay.
Okay, I think this might be the song I was looking for.