I feel broken. I am broken but still I carry on.
A direct consequence of this brokenness is that I am self critical, rarely happy with myself or my own efforts.
The problem with fibromyalgia is it makes me so so exhausted, that with impaired cognitive function I’m never able to give 100%.
I forget. I know what I mean to say but cannot find the right words. The pain is too much. I get confused. And I am lost.
Depression adds its hand. It makes me more aware that I am fighting a battle to get my body to do what I want it to.
I must push myself to work. Loving coax body, mind and soul. Nevermind the pain, the fatigue…never mind I cannot find the right word. I will use a dictionary or ask my co worker shamelessly. I will explain to my boss so he understands my challenges a little better.
I am trying to work with my circumstances and not be inhibited by them.
I am praised at work, but not content myself because I know this is not my best.
Today I am rejected yet another time as an aspiring author, and I believe it is because my work is not good enough. It might have been were it not for f and d.
I am broken. I have always felt so broken. This is to blame for my self critical nature.
But in a strange, unsettling way, being broken is not such a bad thing. I take up the pieces of myself every time and try to reconstruct ME to someone stronger, sturdier.
Being broken gives me that opportunity.
I’d like to stop being self-critical but it also makes me try harder. I am persevering. I will not stop until I get it right.
When I stop, I would have won and by then I will be whole.
Gentle hugs 🙂