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11.10.22 Race



I struggled to write this week. Not because it was a bad week. Not because it was a good week. Just because I simply didn’t leave time for it. Each day was a race against the clock trying to squeeze more and more into each minute. Trying to work 27 hours into the 24 that we have each day. Running and rushing. Spinning faster than a rat in its wheel. And then it hit me. And not just in a figurative way. The exhaustion came down like a pile of bricks, so thick and weighted that I had no choice but to succumb. Not just a regular “I overdid it at the gym today” tired. But a bone deep, heavy lidded exhaustion that I felt everywhere. It was so strong, so potent that it actually hurt. And still I pushed through it; drank some coffee, ate some energy bars. Pushing, pushing. Can’t stop. Won’t stop. Deep down I know this isn’t healthy. Deep down I know this is going to cost me in the long run. But the vicious voice that is anxiety refuses to listen to reason. It can’t be stopped. “Just one more thing”, it’s seductive voice purrs, “and then you’ll pause and rest.” But one more thing quickly slips into a thousand and before you know it, a thousand more things pop up. So how do I stop? When do I slow down, you ask? I’m still unsure.


Until next time,

A

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