“Surrender” is My Word of the Week

I get so mad at myself when I’m sick. If I’m working for a paycheck and I’m sick, I’m mad that I have to make the decision to either call in and let everyone down and potentially look bad, or go in and potentially spread my sick to everyone there. Even worse if my kids are sick and I have to stay home with them like a sucker/parent. Where’s my drive? Where’s my hunger? When I’m not working outside the house, it feels beyond lazy to just take a day on the couch in recovery mode, when my life is so gravy as it is.

What I’m learning is that being mad at myself doesn’t actually make me heal any quicker. I can’t impatient myself into not coughing. My body has been sore, feverish, full of snots and coughs for almost two weeks (I’ve gone to the doctor twice like a little freak, and they just keep reassuring me that I’m not dead yet, that it’s just a nasty virus, but NOT COVID (we’ve checked thrice, my nostrils can give testimony), and it just wants to rest and hydrate. Finally, so many days into feeling like wet garbage, I have just been sitting and drinking water and expecting the bare minimum of productivity.

All my life I’ve learned that my value is in my achievement, my productivity, my perfection, so it’s going to probably take the back half of my life to unlearn that. Especially if I actually plan to do this writing thing. It’s a lot of sitting alone trying to focus, without a deadline or anyone with concrete expectations. I need to be able to find my focus and purpose without much external drive. Both writing and stay-at-home-momming require regular self assurances that you ARE in fact enough, and doing enough, because no one is telling you one way or the other, there are nebulous, always-moving goals, there’s no built in work/rest phases. There’s no one to say, “You’ve done enough work today, go home and take care of yourself, go rest and enjoy your weekend” because the work flows on and the to-do pile just keeps back-filling.

But finally over the last few days, I just sat and relaxed without spiting myself for it. I am feeling lucky that I am able to have sick days without corporate consequences, and also I’m acknowledging that I need to build my own version of sick days, of rest, because the voice in my head is a meaner boss than I’ve ever had in real life.

Also, I’ve just been sad recently. Worried. Anxious. And instead of judging myself for feeling those things, I’m just surrendering to them, feeling them, exploring them. There’s a lot in this time, this world, to be sad, worried, and anxious about. Trying to force my feelings to be sunnier never works, it just adds a layer of shame.

So…I’m sick and I’m sad. And that’s OK. I’m letting myself feel it all and recover.

MEANWHILE, I’m writing and binge-watching and binge-reading and binge-cooking soup. It’s not all bad. ;)