Sitting In The Muddle
A meandering post for anyone who's lost their way in their life after cancer
I seem to find myself scrolling more on Instagram or Vinted, or sitting collapsed in the evening in front of some new multi-episode series. Why? Is it that I’m lazy? Is it that I am called to numb myself? Is it that some reptilian part of my brain is so exhausted it needs to zone out and not be challenged?
Why do I stop doing the things that are good for me - the things that centre and ground me? Why is that?
I know with every fibre of my being that spending 10 minutes in meditation first thing in the morning lifts me up. I exhale with that deep knowing of oh, this feels good. I feel an inner peace. I feel my shoulders drop.
So why do I stop? Actually, it’s not even a decision or a choice to stop. It just doesn’t happen one morning and then that’s it - it’s lost. And it’s only when I feel wound up or heavy or a bit out of sorts that I remember my meditation. Same goes for stretching each morning. I would do a series of stretches in the kitchen whilst I waited for the kettle to boil. It felt so good to loosen up, to hear the clunks and creaks of my body coming back to life and reminding myself that I’m still here. And then one day I didn’t - and there we go again, back to not doing it until I remember once more.
I feel so frustrated. I can feel it now in my body as I write - a tightening, a resistance, a tension building. I’ve got better at not criticising myself, but it’s hard. I’m learning to be okay with sitting in the frustration with a certain tenderness. I’ve learned that much.
So what is it? Dopamine? Needing an instant hit, like a drug? Not allowing myself the pause to slow down my thinking in mindful meditation? Heading straight to Instagram to check out another knitting pattern or talking dog video? It feels mindless. Ultimately it doesn’t fulfil me - it simply keeps me numb. It keeps me in an observing life position. It’s not active, it’s watching. I think that’s what it is.
Some days there’s a lethargy, a moroseness - it’s an effort and I just don’t have the energy to be active.
Fuck cancer. The side effects have a huge reach. I long to be living a full and fulfilling life and, don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful for being here, for being cancer free — but the side effects are insidious.
I get that inactivity - at least that’s what it feels like - is what my body needs to continue healing, but it pisses me off so much. I hate having to not overload myself. And it’s not even that. I’ll give you an example: I had a consultant’s appointment this morning. I have piriformis syndrome and chronic sciatic pain. I was hoping for a certain outcome and I didn’t get it - I was hoping for a steroid injection and to be done, back to being pain free. I came home exhausted… from a doctor’s appointment. I felt miserable and, once again, frustrated at this situation. And that’s what gets me down. The lethargy kicks in, I know that exercises would help ease the pain but I can’t be bothered. So what’s the point…
How do I override this state of mind and body in the kindest possible way? I need a gentle nudge - a reminder that climbing a mountain (because that’s what it feels like) is done one step at a time.
I have so much to create and to share. I get excited and then I crash. I don’t like being this starter and non-finisher. I need to find a way to listen more to my inner mentor than to the inner critic who has become a mouthy b*tch. I love her too, but I feel she needs to go on an extended sabbatical so that I can get on with living fully, without the burden of this heavy weight.
I appreciate that this is a meandering post, a stream of consciousness. I’ve no idea whether you connect with this, but it’s helping me make some sense of how I’m feeling right now. This is what I love about journaling - the meander, the pause, the space to consider and then to write some more. Nothing has to be resolved. I can sit in the muddle and still appreciate my life.
Love
Rebecca x
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