Somethings gotta give…

Each day I expend a great deal of energy trying to keep up with the rest of the world, I am constantly analysing my feelings, actions and the motives behind them. But no matter how much energy I direct towards maintaining the facade of a well-functioning and normal me, eventually, somethings gotta give. Well, today something did give, I’m not going to go into the nitty-gritty details because it is to do with money and work and all those other controversial things, but essentially I set out trying to take on the world and have been humbled into accepting that I can’t do things in the same way as normal people.

Most people will have heard the notion that you can do anything you set your mind to and you can be whatever you want to be; I have heard those mantras so often, in school, on television, from the people around me… It’s as good a notion as any, a positive message to send out into the world and one I shall strive instill into my own children, but what nobody really mentions is that although we may all be capable of greatness we cannot all reach it in the same ways and we will not all ascend toward the same level of achievement.

Right now, I feel as though I have failed. Failed myself and all those around me, those rooting for me and offering their support. It feels as though, by accepting this modicum of help in something so trivial, I have given up the fight and given in to my disease. Everything feels dreadfully negative. All because I cannot complete a mundane task, a task millions of others have completed on numerous occasions, without help… I am angry, frustrated and achingly disappointed because I was so determined that I could go this alone, that I wouldn’t succumb to what almost feels like laziness to me. Logically, I know that it is no awful thing to accept help when you need it; if not for situations like mine why would the help and support in these cases even exist? I am aware that I am not the only person in the world unable to cope. I can see that, if the tables were turned and I was to impart some sage advice to someone in my position, I would berate them for being so hard on themselves and impress upon them that it is no failing to ask for help. But all the logic in the world cannot stop me feeling as though I have just taken a gargantuan step in the wrong direction.

I think perhaps one of the most frustrating things for me is not yet knowing my limits. What am I capable of? How far can I push myself? I have never really paid enough attention, never really realised that my slumps of depression and anxiety were related so closely to the overwhelming amount of tasks I set myself. I have always aimed high and it has always been my downfall because I could never achieve what I set out to and so anything I accomplished was lost amongst the disappointment of not reaching the unrealistic expectations I had for myself. It is difficult though, to change a lifetime of setting the bar too high, what is the right level to aim at? How do I discover this without pushing myself over the edge? Do normal people have to ask these same questions?

I know I need to pull myself out of this negative slump and that it is doing nothing to help me; I will eventually. But right now, I want to be angry for my lost independence and frustrated for my lack of ability and competence. I want to cry for my murdered expectations and throw a tantrum for having to face the truth. I want to berate myself for needing help with such trivial tasks. Maybe then; after I am mentally beaten into submission, I will be able to accept that I cannot do it all, I cannot take on the world alone.

 

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