Today, my brain is sad. It has no energy to function in this world. Every little noise makes it try to run away. The tapping of my fingers at the keyboard is almost too much. It wants to turn inwards, for me to close my eyes, block my ears, make my body as small as possible and run from this world. It wants to imagine a warm, fleece blanket, cocooning my body, protecting me from everyone. It wants a safe space, where the noises, the light, the feel of the world can’t intrude. It wants time to heal and regain energy.
How did this happen? How is it today that I am broken, scared to ask for help because it hurts too much to interact with another? Well, there’s been a perfect storm of events leading up to this. It’s hard to remember how amazing I felt at the end of Outback Odyssey, but the beginning of this is there. An overuse injury that kept me off the bike for the best part of 6 weeks. Minimal riding, I couldn't even commute, meaning that one stress relief option was no longer there. Two bad colds later also made me feel like a stranger in my own body. Ridiculously weak and scared that anything I did do would set back the healing I had undergone. So physically I was a bit of a mess.
The next factor was work. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do and the people I do it with, there are just times where it is hard. I am not a people person, though I love interacting with my friends. Interacting with people for me is hard work. I have a knack of saying the wrong thing and have had to teach myself what are the safe and proper conversation methods. I think I'm lacking that part of my brain that will tell me if I'm likely to offend someone. On the plus side, this means I'm not so easy to offend, but it means that I have to put a lot of energy into figuring out what to say as I don’t really want to go around offending people off the bat. The problem with work is that I'm having to interact with more and more people, people that don’t seem to listen and talk to each other in the first place, or at least what one person says is different from what the other person hears. There’s nothing wrong with this, it’s part of being human and learning to work together, but at the moment I feel like I'm the person trying to make sure that everyone is understood and there are just too many people to do that with. I come home and I don’t want to talk, I just want to hide in the corner and not come out.
Not having the bike to de-stress from work means that it builds up until I break. Until small things become unbearable irritants, lift doors closing too fast, people chewing. I feel like the world around me is pressing in on all sides and anything I say is going to make it worse. Or worse still, I struggle to say anything because my brain refuses to work. I try to find the words but then worry that they’re going to be wrong and the panic sets in. My brain goes round in circles, yes I know this is depression, I know it will get better, why am I like this, why can’t I just be normal? Why do I have to worry people I care about? Why can’t I fix myself? Why can’t I explain it so they won’t worry? Should I be worried? What if it doesn't pass?
I know that things will get better. But I think I need to work out better strategies for coping. I don’t like being like this, I want to play in the sunshine with my friends, but I can’t because it hurts and I'm afraid of hurting them. I don’t want to be broken any more.
That was this morning, after I’d made the decision not to race CX because I couldn't handle people. Thankfully my brain got a bit better with some TLC from Mr Carl and I was able to get out on my bike. Maretta and I rode and rode, the constant turning of the pedals allowing my mind to sort itself out.
I had a moment of understanding on the bike. I know I suffer depression, but this seemed different, that I was stressed out beyond reason. But there was a reason, I was afraid I was failing. Not just work, but on the bike, failing my friends and Mr Carl, failing myself. I want to be a person who is strong and capable, who can look after those I care about. I want to do a good job. I have been lucky enough in my working life to be supported by some exceptional people and I want to pass that on to others I work with. I want to be trusted to do a good job and that needs to be earned. And I am afraid I am failing.
I want to be a good friend, to be there when my friends need me, to put effort into the friendships so that my friends never think I've forgotten them. I want to do this with my family, to provide some sort of cohesion as we all head in different directions, to let them know that I am there for them. I want to be a good partner, to make Mr Carl feel special and like the amazing person I know he is. And I am afraid that I am failing.
I want to be good to myself, to grow both physically and mentally, and not from eating too much cake! I want to find strength and balance in my body and mind. I want to write, to dance, to ride, to run! I want to live. And I am afraid that I am failing.
Before I left for my ride, a friend of mine put up a post that must have resonated with me. He said:
“We need to laugh at ourselves. We need to let ourselves just have fun. Otherwise what do we gain from being serious all the time?”
After I realised that I was afraid, I started laughing at myself. I had taken myself too seriously, put all the burden on myself. I believe I had told others off for doing that very thing!
I am all that I can be at the moment, and it is good enough. I can laugh at myself and know that when I fall, because I will, I have the most amazing friends to help me out. I may be afraid I am failing, but I am doing the best that I can, and at the end of the day, it will be enough. I need to remember a mantra I learnt many years ago, from a book picked up in a two dollar stand;
“Don’t fear, just trust and believe.” – Travels with a Wise Man
I believe I can do this, and if I can’t, I trust that there are many amazing people in my life that can help me. And together we can do this.
