When you have a mental illness and life is currently complicated, you methodically move through your days hoping that you don’t stir anymore troubles for yourself.
I don’t need them – the drama – because my proverbial plate is already piled so sky high that my hands physically shake just trying to balance it all. In my head I keep telling myself that if one more thing happens today, just one more thing, I’ll snap.
So I try to avoid the triggers that I know will automatically make my hair stand on end and cause me to shoot unfiltered words from the fiery pits of my belly.
Some days I am successful. Some days I am not. I am human after all and my dad’s daughter who is the epitome of explosive word vomit. He taught me not to take shit from any man including my child’s ex-bully teacher and the punks who dress in tapered jogging pants and wear sunglasses on a rainy day who park right up against my car.
For the record: Monday April 3rd 2017 was not yo day folks.
My psychiatrist knows about the people who create more stress in my life than help me reduce it. We will discuss and he’ll lean back in his chair, fold his arms behind his head, and so coolly say:
“Tell them to screw off. You can do that you know.”
In other words: Make boundaries.
It only took 8 years but I have actually started doing this – daring to set these boundaries and creating a space around myself.
I have slowly begun to let go of the toxic people and unnecessary things that were heavy and in those places I now hold things that make me feel happy, safe, connected to the here and now – things that help me honour myself first.
And in doing so, I realized something. The things that I was starting to place closest to my center were are all the tools that I would run to when I needed to replenish my spirit when I was empty.
When it was already too late.
They were the LAST THINGS when they should have been the first things.
They were on the OUTSIDE of my boundaries.
I wasn’t making myself a priority in my own life.
Now I look around *gestures to everything* I’m surrounded by mostly good things.
Don’t get me wrong though, I am still trying to hold it together with medication, mascara, smiles and the f-word.
I’m fumbling through my days dealing with mental illness and life is happening hard but I know this now –
In my space:
I need quiet, calm, turned off phone, no one in my face.
I need books, journals, socks, tea, wine.
I need music, skirting my feet from room to room while I pretend to clean.
I need hidden candy behind the …
I need short car rides with a journal and a coffee and sunglasses to the park and the windows unrolled just a smidgen.
I need a nap with my dog – never happens but one day maybe.
I need glue, paper, pictures, pens…scrapbook all the things.
I need to be a savage and delete people on Facebook when I feel the negativity…sips on tea…carries on with life.
I need my very super small social circle – ones that are there 100% of the time and not just when I am well. I trust those people.
I need my son and my husband and to listen to them laugh and to squeeze the ever loving wind out of them.
I need those things and I now engage in those things FIRST because I realized that they’re the oxygen that feeds my boundary- my space – my soul.
They’re absolutely necessary for my survival.
And you better believe that I’ll defend it.
Do you create boundaries for yourself?
And this song is my jam right now