I’m back from vacation, and I’m already starting to feel over-taxed. Time to get out in front of what I’m doing and take command of my days, my time, my energy. Most important of all, I need to not get down on myself, thinking there’s something wrong with me, because I can’t “keep up” with everything going on. I have more stringent definitions of what “keeping up” is all about, anyway, so I need to give myself a break and be a bit easier on myself.
I’m doing great. I really am. I’ve been getting great reviews at work, and I have a really good feeling about this year. We’re already through the first quarter, and we’re moving on. Just gotta keep moving on…
One thing I noticed – again – is that I tend to push myself harder than I should. It’s partly because I have high standards, it’s partly because I have this perpetual sense that I’m falling behind, and it’s partly because I really dig the feeling of pushing myself really hard — even to the point where I’m hurting myself. I’ll stay up too late, take on too many tasks, drive myself onward-onward and feel the effects of it, day in and day out, till I crash. But I won’t stop.
I did this when I was younger, too. When I played sports, I would just push myself and push myself and push myself, playing through many injuries, including head injuries. It didn’t help that I had pre-existing concussions by the time I got to high school and started playing organized sports. I think, in fact, it contributed to my willingness/eagerness to play through injuries. Definitely, having the prior concussions contributed to the impact of the ones I sustained in high school. They made the actual injuries worse, and they made my responses to them less intelligent and more stubborn and non-compliant.
Am I innately self-destructive? No, I’m not.
Do I want to hurt myself? Did I have a deathwish, back when I was younger? No, that’s not it.
Do I disrespect myself and think poorly of myself, so I have to be punished for some terrible thing I think I”ve done? Sometimes I feel that way, but not all the time.
So, why do I do it? Why do I push myself hard (and crash hard, too) when I know it has a negative effect on me and my world.
Because as much as I intellectually know it bodes ill for the rest of my life, the simple fact is, it feels really good to push through, to play through, to keep going.
This comes back, yet again to the energy/focus/analgesic stress idea that’s been on my mind a lot, over the past years. It has to do with the calming effects of stress hormones, the way they help block out all extraneous details and simplify things for me. It has to do with the pain-deadening effects of the biochemical cascade that comes online when you’re in high-pressure, dangerous, high-stress situations. It has to do with the rush and the chill that comes from extreme living.
It has to do with pain and trouble introducing a relief of some kind, and how I instinctively seek that out.
It’s not that I want to harm myself with stress and pain. I actually want to help myself. Because the pain and fatigue and confusion of so many stimuli coming up — when I’m fatigued, I become even more sensitive, and my hearing, sense of smell and touch, and eyesight all become amplified, picking up every little thing. It’s painful and confusing, and I just want it to stop.
So, I push myself. I push myself through the work I’m doing. I push myself to get up earlier, to stay up later, to take on more tasks, and I overwhelm myself.
Not because I want to hurt myself, but because I want to help myself. And the stress hormones do just that. The adrenaline I get pumping, the intense focus I bring, the ability to shut everything out, just to focus on one individual task or experience at a time… it gives me a huge amount of relief. Relief from the aches and pains and sore tightness in my joints and muscles. Relief from the fog that sets in from having so many responsibilities going on that I lose track of. Relief from my insecurities about being able to get anything done at all.
And that’s a problem. It’s always been a problem, for as long as I can remember. As far as I’m concerned, this need — real, physical, logistical (NOT psychological) need — to plunge into stressful situations — has been at the root of many of my issues over the years. I can very easily see how it has fed my behavior issues, my distractability, my inability to complete things, my restlessness and inability to stay the course over so many years before I got started with rehab. Contrary to what many psychologists will say, I’m convinced (from my own personal experience) that it’s NOT a psychological choice to “sabotage” myself — that’s not it at all. It’s a real physical, logistical need that’s borne of neurological conditions, not psychological ones.
And to think that for so many years, I was convinced that there was something wrong with my psychology, that I was suffering from low self-esteem, that I was self-destructive, that I was somehow psychologically impaired, when all along, there were fundamental underlying neurological and biochemical reasons for my behavior and choices.
It makes me a little nuts, to think of all the years I spent feeling psychologically impaired because of misunderstood neurological conditions. But at least I’m aware of the true nature of my issues now. And that’s half the battle, right there.
If I can get some rest, step back, take another look at how I’m living my life, and make some choices that I want to make about how I want to live my life, rather than having them be made for me by reflex or reaction, drive by others’ agendas, that will be good. I’m doing that now. I’m looking at my pain levels, my sleeping issues (I’ve started lying down on the couch earlier in the evening and just going to sleep for a while when I’m tired, so I’m less exhausted when I actually go to bed – and I can actually GET to bed), my daily routine… I’m looking at it all.
Vacation was good, but it didn’t solve everything. But at least it gave me a little more rest and some distance to contemplate what it is I’m doing with myself and why/how I want to do it all.
Which is good.
Getting hurt isn’t the only thing that feels good. Sometimes getting things right feels pretty awesome, too.
I just need to make a point of focusing on that.
And find yet more replacements for the kinds of activities that give me that huge rush — the rush I don’t just crave, but can’t live without.