I complain often about being tired and run down, not having enough time for everything. Sorry, this is more of the same again. Even worse, I have no answers. Not easy ones anyhow. Still. This is itself a sign that things are improving. I’m putting the wheels back on the carriage and hopefully soon all four will be turning in unison and I’ll stop floundering in this rut.

Sometimes life is shit. There’s no getting away from it, it’s just a tough, uphill slog. I have been quite literally drowning in it. Overcome with responsibility, helping, working, paying bills, saving for the future, keeping up relationships, exercise and somewhere in all that I’m supposed to find space for me. I failed. I did too much. I fell. No, I crash-landed. I’m limping back, licking my wounds and trying to piece everything together.
I’m not fricking super-human. Nobody is. I’ve had to face some hard truths this past month. I have quit my job and I’m forcing myself to exercise again. I’d stopped that for the most part too. I began having what I thought were heart palpitations and / or little ‘twinges’ when I pushed myself physically. Everyone tells me I’m fine but I’ve been pushing too hard and it’s my body’s way of saying “For the love of all that’s good please just SLOW DOWN.“
I’m not very good at slowing down.
Yet I’m very lucky in that I have found a new job, and despite still feeling terrified and anxious about the strange feelings in my chest, I’m feeling more positive about things. My doctor (once I finally got to see him after 8 weeks) told me I have costochondritis. It sounded right. That, coupled with the stiffness of Parkinson’s added up. The mild cardiomegaly I was told I also had can all be brought on by our dear friend stress.
The first step on the ladder is seeing it. Oh gosh, do I see it. Now I’m trying to act. Money may well be nice, but I will just have to live off my savings until I can replace my income when my new position begins. There’s a lot to be said for learning to live on less.

I am finding myself again. I honestly had felt that I had completely lost who I was. I did nothing for myself, everything was for others or for work. I was just there to provide, to pay and to fix things. That’s how it felt anyhow. Yet here I am. Writing for the first time in so long. Finding my way back. Becoming me again.
Until next time.

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