Trying not

I didn’t quite express what I wanted to in my post last night, so I’ll take another moment of self-indulgence to do it now.

I’m so tired. So tired. My legs ache like they did in high school. I used to lie in bed at night, feeling my legs throb as I imagined them sinking into the mattress to help alleviate the pain. I later realised that my legs hurt in this manner whenever I hadn’t given them enough time to rest – up early, down late, playing sports five days a week. That my legs have been aching in that same way lately fills me with a sense of panic. I haven’t done any training in a week, not since that run four days ago. I’ve been sleeping 8-10 hours a night. If that’s not enough rest, what is?

When I think about having to go to uni today, or work tomorrow, or work the rest of the week until the martial arts weekend where I will certainly feel more tired and sore, I just want to break down and cry. I feel close to being burned out, and I took a night off to watch TV and read and be on the internet. Wasn’t that luxurious four hours enough? It sounds a bit silly, but four hours is a bloody long time to be not studying when I have a presentation that’s been on my mind for weeks. How much more time do I need to feel better?

A little part of me suspects it’s not about time or activity. It’s about attitude. But I’m finding it really hard to dig deep and give from my heart, because I really don’t have much energy to give right now.

Naomi says truly unconditional love fills you with energy rather than takes it away. I noticed this yesterday when I was helping people at work. I suppose I have to stop privileging myself above others. To stop self-indulgently whining so that I can start enjoying how wonderful this day is, despite the aches and tiredness. It’s fucking hard man. But if my alternative is to be miserable and exude this to anyone who will listen, even on my blog, then I’m going to fucking try to be happy. Not try, actually. To be happy.

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