In my quest to figure out how to not hate life with limitations, I’ve gotten to learn how to develop self-compassion. For me, this looks like figuring out how I’d talk to a friend in my circumstance, and then directing that kindness at myself. I didn’t realize how powerful this was until I started to break down in tears under the kindness of it all. Here’s a peek into a day of life last week.
It’s okay that you’re exhausted. You have permission.
It’s okay that you’re crashing. You’re allowed.
You’re allowed to not be perfect.
It’s okay that you showed your family your exhausted mind and heart instead of acting. Thank you for not acting.
It’s okay that your brain went blank and you forgot a simple word again mid conversation. It’s okay that it felt embarrassing.
It’s okay that you have no idea what tomorrow will bring. It’s okay that that’s actually a little scary, where for most people that’s really exciting.
It’s okay that you’re frustrated. This is extremely frustrating.
It’s okay that you’re exhausted. Fighting for your body doesn’t mean fighting your body. Thanks for not fighting your body today.
It’s okay that you said no again. It’s okay that you’re accepting your limitations instead of pretending they don’t exist, like many suggest.
It’s okay that at times this is both heaven and hell.
It’s okay that you’re choosing differently than the people around you. It’s okay that your food has weird names that you’re not sure that you’re saying correctly.
It’s okay to talk about this. It’s okay that these unseen symptoms scare and make skeptics of many. It’s okay that it’s actually hard to talk about feeling this weak, because you’re still learning that not everyone will invalidate you.
It’s okay to accept that today’s a really tired day, where you have to lay down, you have to watch Netflix, your only prayer is a gentle ‘help’.
It’s okay to accept the good with the bad. It’s okay that this isn’t a walk in the park.
It’s okay that you’re not able to maximize this free-time as you’ve been recommended, because sometimes the effort it takes to focus is exhausting. It’s okay that you play everything by ear. It’s okay that you don’t know what you’re doing.
Actually, looking back, it’s amazing that you don’t know what you’re doing.
Because you’ve done it. You’re doing it.
Healing what, you barely know.
But you’re healing. You’re resting. You’re not denying.
You are doing so well.
The people that love you may not fully get it.
They hate that you’re in pain, and occasionally those feelings might feel like they’re directed at you. They’re not. You are not hated. You’re ferociously loved. You aren’t meant to carry their feelings.
It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.
It’s okay to feel overjoyed. All within 1 hour.
It’s okay that your tender, thin-skin requires a certain kind of company.
It’s okay that you can’t have long conversations or make many close new friends. It’s okay to not have the energy. It’s okay to feel sad about that.
It’s okay to not be the life of the party. It’s okay to not want to talk.
It’s okay to sit in the corner.
It’s okay today to be less than you’ve been. Less than your best. You don’t have to be anything like your best.
You’re allowed to be so absolutely weak.
It’s okay to make hard choices that you shouldn’t have to make, like yesterday when you had to chose to do one or the other: see friends or feel okay. Your life is full of hard choices. You have made them really well.
Baby you are doing hard things.
You’re doing hard things that many never have to do.
You’re facing realities that scare the life out of many. You’ve lived bravely on in spite of that.
You’re brave as anything, as strong as a mountain, and capable of anything now.
You’re fierce and you’re gentle. You’re careful and you’re wild. You are everything and one thing wrapped in a fiery heartbeat that’s refused to quit and I can’t tell you how great that is.
And you’re gonna make it. This will change.
Thank you for making it.
❤ ❤ ———