Moving House and the Difficulties of Rest

Saturday, September 21, 2019
Hello all! (I don't really know what 'all' really means, cannot really quantify it, and yet I continue to send these posts out into the void! Well, if you're reading this, thanks. :))

I moved house two weeks ago. Honestly I feel startled that it's only been two weeks... Surely it's been more like four? But no, I checked the dates, it's been two. I think I've mentioned on my blog previously that my partner and I had been going through some stressful stuff, but that we were doing well enough considering, and ultimately a lot of that 'difficult stuff' led to us needing to move house, or at least, deciding to. We probably could have stayed on at the old place, but it had just become so difficult and stressful having to deal with the situation that we opted for mental health and decided to get out of there.

As much as I am sad to have left the old place - it had a big beautiful garden that we adored, and the birdlife was wondrous - I am very happy at the new place already. It's quite old, and reminds me a lot of the place my grandma used to live when I was little. It has things that need to be fixed, and a lot of little quirks, but it's cozy, sweet, and feel like a really good fit.

Something that came up again and again for me during the moving process and now afterwards was my limitations - how much my body could handle before it just gave out completely. I will admit to being pretty amazed at how much I was capable of, whilst also trying to remind myself to rest regularly. As I am sure is the case with a lot of spoonies, it was really hard having to acknowledge over and over again that my energy levels were quite different from my partner's, or even my parents'. I felt so grateful during the move for all the help we got, and continue to receive, and I have been making more of an effort to lean into that rather than dwell on how few spoons I have now.

On the day of the move, I was unable to participate for over half the day. I woke up in the morning and promptly got extremely sick, my pain levels skyrocketing. It was possibly because I had done too much the day before - building Ikea furniture for the new place (I had also been experiencing some bad symptoms during that time but my pain levels were tolerable. So, aside from a few times when I enforced rest with myself a bit, I was pretty active.). My parents had to come pick me up and take me to their place, so that I would be out of the way. I am proud of the way I handled this - I could have fallen in a heap, crying and cursing the chronic illness gods (is there such a thing? that would be interesting.) and refusing to give in, pushing my body despite it's pain to the very limits until I ended up at hospital. I definitely could have done that. Instead, with calm but great sadness, I made the decision that would ultimately be the best choice for everyone, and I called my Dad. Later on in the day I felt able to go to the new house and direct people on where to put bookcases and such, and to help unpack.

Since the moving day, there's been a lot to do, but I've noticed that my body just can't handle very much. I still do a fair amount, but I know I'm very depleted. Sometimes I feel this pain in my stomach which I have begun to associate with sheer exhaustion - like I have drawn on all my reserves and am running on empty, damaging myself in the process. Energy doesn't come from the void, and I have to be putting back in for a while, I think.

Even knowing all this, and calmly reporting it to you now, I am still having trouble resting as much as I need to. I am making mistakes and doing too much pretty regularly whilst I learn what my new limitations are. (I also may have caught a cold so add that to the things needing healing!) And I'm trying really hard to show myself compassion while that happens - I knew that I would be depleted by everything that has been happening, but I never really know how depleted I'm going to be, and what form that depletion will take. I guess you could say I am experiencing burnout, but a kind of burnout that has - through necessity - had to last for many months. I have times when the very idea of having to leave the house is enough to reduce me to tears, it just feels like too much. And that's probably because it is. I need to be so gentle with myself, and that's okay. I'm okay to keep exploring what my body can manage now, and to find new and better ways to rest. Just part of my journey.

Love to all who read.

Really enjoying kefir lately!

reading outside in the sun.

1 comment:

  1. You're doing so great working through all this guilt that you don't need to be carrying. I'm proud of you, and I love you.


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