It’s been busy the past few weeks. Not so busy that I couldn’t find twenty minutes to write if I wanted to, but busy enough where I lack the mental capacity to do really anything creative once I log off work for the day. I’m in the busiest time at work and have the goal of making sales conference – it feels nice to have something to shoot for which is why I love sales. You’re rewarded for the work you do, but that doesn’t mean burnout doesn’t exist. I started to feel myself care much less on Friday this week, I’m starting to dread Monday. I dream about work scenarios, I can’t kick this one email from last week in my memory. This is how I know I’m stressed and I’m trying to be mindful. I know what chronic stress can lead to, I just had my 5 year psych ward anniversary.
I’ve been thinking about this periodically as well. I’m a firm believer that your body stores memories and when certain times of the year come to pass it brings up traumatic things that have happened in the past. Life can be interesting like that. I feel like I have low empathy or just overall low capacity for certain people in my life. I purposely didn’t walk yesterday because I just can’t hear about my friend’s divorce again this week. That makes me sound like a monster doesn’t it? That’s not something you’re supposed to admit. I’ve been listening to the ins and outs of this for months, and I just recently reached my limit. It’s not to say I won’t walk again next week, or even that I don’t want to know how she’s doing – I do. It’s just that I recognized that I didn’t have the capacity, or maybe just needed a break, or maybe even recognized that I was frustrated with the fact that both the people I walk with don’t have the capacity for me. I’ve said how I’m busy or stressed at work, or maybe mentioned the mundane things that have happened. For two weeks I was met with quite the lack of enthusiasm. The me before my breakdown wouldn’t have thought twice about this- I never used to mind giving everything to everyone even when I had nothing left to give. For me, this isn’t a wake up call that something is wrong or that I need to change how I’m showing up. This is a recognition that I have boundaries now and I don’t really mind if they offend a friend. I feel as though there is a silent expectation for me to check in throughout the week. But the thing is I don’t have the capacity for that – maybe the problem is me. Of course if this friend reached out to me and wanted to talk I would be there in a heartbeat, but I don’t think it’s fair to expect me to add “check in with thoughtful texts” on my calendar as an anticipatory task this week. It could be that when I was at my lowest point no one checked in on me. I had to handle it alone. I had to come out of the depths of sorrow and learn how to re-enter the world on my own. I think that is one of the reasons why now my empathy can only go so far. I was always over giving before my breakdown – the fact that I’m no longer willing to makes me feel like some sort of villain.
This doesn’t go just for friends but also family. My mom and I used to talk daily and after my breakdown I tried to set boundaries. She was one of the bigger reasons for my breakdown. My voice wasn’t respected so I had to cut off contact for quite awhile. She texted me today about the weather, and we talk every so often. I can’t imagine a world where I call her daily – the former me put in so much effort in the end to only break down.
I think I realized that over-extending myself only brought on unnecessary stress to my life. I’m no longer willing to put myself in that position – I found my limits in the destruction. I truly believe that I would have never reached the point that I did 5 years ago if I had learned how to set personal boundaries earlier on. Yes, there were other factors like an Adderall addiction, COVID, a conspiracy theorist mother who was relentless, never really processing anything traumatic; that all played a part in my breakdown. At different points in these 5 years I was convinced that one played a bigger part than another, but in truth I believe everything combined created the perfect storm. Ultimately, I am the only one I can hold accountable for my brief downfall and I will never get to that place again if I can help it. This is the reason the way I show up for people has changed. I used to pride myself on being a person who put myself second, but that got me nowhere but an extended hospital stay.
The truth is I’m struggling with how I’m showing up. I was not brought up to feel this way or to not show limitless empathy when someone I know is going through something. I was trained to always say yes even when I didn’t want to do something – this scenario makes me think of a recent example of another friend needing a late night babysitter. I ultimately said no, not because I couldn’t. But because I didn’t want to. Again, it makes me feel like a villain.
I’m supposed to be the good girl, the nice girl, the yes girl. When people talk about me they should say “oh yes I know her, she’s so nice. She was always there for me.” The truth is I don’t have it in me anymore, that’s no longer who I am. But if I’m not that person does that make me bad?
The Girl Without A Face 