I feel like I should say something profound here. Or funny. Or shocking. Something that will grab your attention. Because that's what I'm supposed to do, right? I'm told I have about 13 seconds to get you interested in what you're reading, or you will move on. And perhaps that is true. Probably it's true.
But in all honesty I don't have anything profound to say right now. I published two blog posts and a newsletter last week, and I think I'm out of deep thoughts now. The well is empty. Beyond that, one of my best friends is struggling with knowing how to help a little boy in her preschool who has reported that he's being abused at home. Her heart is breaking because she's a kind, loving soul who wants to rescue him, but she doesn't know how, or if she even can. Another close friend is working though a recurrence of some depression and anxiety, and she's strong and I know she will get through it and be even more amazing on the other side of it, but it's still hard. Another friend is overwhelmed with daily life right now, because everything has changed and expectations are ridiculously high and holy hell is it a lot to deal with. Our own family is still reeling from our oldest child's major announcement last month.
A woman in a circle of which I'm a part commented recently that adulting feels particularly hard right now. I wanted to yell "Amen!" when I read that. Never an easy gig even in the best of times, right now it feels like trying to carry an enormous boulder up hill, while a team of midgets is running around your feet and trying to trip you up at every turn. And if you have perfectionism, then you also have a drill sergeant screaming in your ear "faster, faster, move it, get going, unless you WANT to be a giant loser". No matter how much logic tells you that this is a losing game, that you're being set-up, and the only reasonable recourse is to set the boulder down and regroup, the drill sergeant has you convinced that if you were to stop, something vague but clearly terrible would happen.
But I happen to know that the drill sergeant is lying, and that resting is actually okay. I know this because: 1). I've pushed back against him many times and nothing was as bad as he told me it would be. Absolutely nothing that he's threatened has actually happened; and 2). my life has already been turned upside down anyway by terrible news, and there are still moments of utter gratitude and joy in every day, so complete disaster is suddenly sounding much less threatening now, and 3). I have seen most of my own negative beliefs falling apart at the slightest pressure, and once that happens you start realizing that the rest of them are smoke and mirrors, too.
So, in case you need to hear this...I give you permission to punch that mother fucker drill sergeant in the throat and set the boulder down. It's okay. I promise.
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Hi there, I'm Amy. I'm so glad you're here. I'm a writer, photographer, mom, wife, and highly sensitive introvert, just trying my best to show up fully for myself, my family, and my life. It all gets a little crazy sometimes, and it helps to have a place to connect honestly about what's really going on. This is my place.