21.2.18 Embroidery progress
I slowly seem to have found myself in a very boring crisis this week. My crises are never particularly interesting if I'm honest. Less dramatic plot twists and more just me failing to do embarrassingly basic things. Ever so often now, I seem to slip a little physically like this, so it's nothing new and nothing to be especially worried about, at least not yet. It's the nature of lifelong illness. Some months and years you win, and some you lose.
When something changes in my life, I'm always surprised and amused by my instant need to make it a big deal. There is this feeling I should issue a statement: to myself, to others. I should immediately proclaim what is happening and what it all means. I should define it neatly, claiming this new state as my territory now. Hi, new thing, I am you now. Look world, look, I'm this now.
I'm not sure what I think it will achieve, but the risk to me is that suddenly everything becomes filtered through its lens. It's like I've cast myself in this particular role and now everything has to fit. I'm not just making a sandwich, I'm desperately trying to make a sandwich because my body is failing. I'm not just resting, I am confined to bed because that's my life now. If I'm struggling, then obviously everything must be a struggle now, mustn't it? Else it doesn't make sense.
No wonder everything seems so bleak. I spend all day playing a disaster movie in my head.
It's a habit I'm trying to break, this catastrophising when things don't go to plan or I don't feel well. Truth is, I don't actually know everything that's happening right now. That's going to take some wait and see and some time to see the bigger picture. I'll have a clearer idea in a week, a month. Hell, even tomorrow might bring something new. I don't need to start writing the chapter heading for my biography right now.
And although my days involve some very hard things at the moment, they're not all bad. Or at least, they don't need to be, if I can let go a little and give some other things chance to share the stage.
To help break the cycle, when I realise I'm falling into that state of prophesying doom on every corner and turning everything into a new scene in my disaster movie, I've started to make myself do something mundane and undramatic. I make myself stop struggling. I stop doing all the things that might help prove what I'm up against, all the things that best show me against the odds, and instead do something really dull and unimpressive instead.
Today I did some embroidery. It turns out it's very hard to be dramatic when you're satin-stitching an acorn. It made me laugh at myself and feel better.
To tomorrow then, hey. Who knows what it will bring.