Here I am, back in what used to be the soggy South and what is now more like a slightly more humid and less slushy version of a Michigan March. I'm told that these frozen fractal mornings are limited, possibly done already...but I can't help but roll my eyes at the fact that I thought I moved away from all of this. But compared to life north of the Mason Dixon, it appears that I have.
Post break, I'm still tired. I fully expected to become bored and hungry for knowledge within a week, but the joke was on me because I make it a point not to lead a boring life. There were too many people to see, too many things to do, and frankly, not enough internet to do actual work due to the ice storm knocking trees into power lines.
The ice, for me, was a frigid blessing.
And after spending a considerable amount of time with my family in Michigan, having been pleasantly surprised by my only having to dodge one or two facetious smirks after they learned that I had been "actually challenged by something" (and how invalidating to my work ethic and achievements was that?!) I had told my story several times. Of how I'm tired, and burned out, and have been for quite some time. And how my endocrine system had apparently flatlined and how I'd been numb, and how unhealthy and ludicrous it all is, and how much I love it but how unworthy it seems to sacrifice myself in the pursuit.
But I made my way back down to pack my summer clothes and migrate, just like everybody else as traffic had suggested. I arrived in Florida with sleeveless shirts and, as we were to find out, my anxiety in tow. It's fascinating to me how my body will behave the way it believes it is allowed to behave, based on the environment. In Michigan, I am allowed to be tired and burned out and trying to slowly return to regular hormonal functionality. But with my family in Florida, I have found that it is entirely acceptable to be a bit of a zombie really, then anxious, then emotional, then shaking, then fine. And the love and the Xanax abound.
I don't know why. I can't handle two families at once, so I separate them; and apparently compartmentalize my mental health as well. But despite all of this, I knew that I had hit a point. And contrary to how it may seem, I did have a slightly productive break in more ways than one.
So yesterday I had class until noon, but then I spent the next several hours in and out of various appointments; seeing doctors, getting referrals, setting myself up for what a dear friend called "a trifecta of wellness." Because a trifecta of wellness it is, and it's necessary. I think that it's been necessary for quite some time, but I am the poster child for stubbornness and I would wait until my career is absolutely on the line for me to make any sort of change. Or, is my career not on the line yet? It may or may not be; nobody will really give me a straight answer around here. But nevertheless, my health is on the line. I can't do this anymore if I want a prayer to achieve the things I'd like to achieve. It's only fear, possibly (probably) shame in the way. However, at this moment in my life where I'm willing to disrobe my cloak of shame because, well, fuck it...I might as well take advantage of myself.
And I am proud to finally do so, and so looking forward to getting better. Let's get better.