Compassion is easy to have for others. My heart hurts every time I see anyone else struggling. Somehow though, I cannot find it in myself to show the same compassion for my struggles. I am not saying that I should be throwing a pity party or that my woes are any worse than yours. It is just that I never cut myself any slack whatsoever. And, after a while, it leads to more anxiety and depression than I can shake a stick at.
So, why am I so incapable of giving myself a break?
I was raised to be driven, have higher standards for myself than others, and to be a leader. These are all good qualities. However, they are also impossible to live up to 100% of the time. I have dealt with anxiety, depression, and panic attacks my entire life. It is impossible to know for sure, but I would say my genes probably made me more prone than most for them. And unfortunately, nurture succeeded in giving me the tools to drive myself to them on a regular basis. It has taken me 38 years, but I have finally seen the correlation between my anxiety and how I treat myself differently work together to leave me feeling weak, useless, and like I have failed.
But, I have not failed. I am a good person. I have done great things in my career. I genuinely want to help others and make a difference in their lives. I have a family and pets that I adore. I have friends. I am rediscovering my passion for writing and all things creative. I am not perfect, but that is okay. I am beginning to think perfect is overrated. There are no surprises in perfect. I have tried living the Martha Stewart/Pinterest life and it is way more trouble than it is worth. I constantly need to remind myself that my Facebook friends' lives are not as perfect as they look online, that I am seeing a very curated collection of moments and so much more is going on behind the scenes. (A special thank you to my therapist for that revelation!!!)
So, where does that leave me? Taking a few extra moments every day just to breathe. It may mean taking some extra time to write it out like I am doing today. The writing calms me, calms the anxiety that is telling me I am wrong. Telling me that I need to do more, be more, keep pushing. It sucks because the voices are so, so loud. And in this busy world it can be easy to forget to breathe. At least for me. But, I am trying. Just maybe, the more I practice, the easier it will get.
Do your voices tell you to keep pushing? How do you quiet them? Have you mastered compassion for yourself? What's your secret? The more we share, the easier it will become. We need to stop telling each other that we are not overwhelmed and tired. Instead, let's tell each other how we actually do it and how we handle it when it gets hard. After all, wouldn't you be happy to know you are not the only one who wishes they could feel better at the end of every day?
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