Forwards is forwards

Getting this monster over the finish line is taking every ounce of resolve, strength and patience I have — and then some I didn’t know I had.

Nobody gave us a manual for this. Every engineer and tradesperson who walks through the door has their own opinion about how we should have done things and in what order — but not one of them was standing next to us at the start saying this is how you do it. We have been faking it until we make it from day one, on completely new ground, with no map and no guide. And honestly? That takes it out of you.

Last night I was down. I don’t mind admitting it. My body was shouting at me — self care long overdue, reminding me that I have to look after my whole self or there’s no way I can hold on to the wheel of this juggernaut that is my life.

The tears of exhaustion and frustration that usually relieve some pressure just wouldn’t come. Sitting there behind my eyes and in my throat, choking me but refusing to budge. No strength left to release them.

So very tired and yet completely unable to switch off. It’s a familiar pattern to so many of us.

I am a doer. When things are bad, I do — it makes me feel better, it’s a positive, even if it’s a small one. But when my body says no and I can’t even do? Well. That’s when I really fall down.

The body needs rest and yet the mind — the mind is a cruel mistress. She will keep on churning. What could you do. What should you do. If only you were not so useless. Even positive thoughts and ideas become just more stuff to do at two in the morning.

Those kinds of nights are usually followed by an early wake up, and today was no different. A chat with my husband — far too brief and long overdue. Still feeling shaky, not sure if I actually have an upset stomach or if the churning ache is just the ball of anxiety I am wrestling with.

But.

Small steps in the direction of forwards. Recognising that today that is all I can make. Forwards is a good direction. Slow and small are what I have and they will have to do.

Which is how I find myself sitting in Hatfields Land Rover waiting for my car to have the AdBlue topped up on a Tuesday morning.

The selection of complimentary snacks and drinks is, I can confirm, legendary. It’s a pity I’m not feeling like eating or drinking — and that I also feel like a complete imposter.

Do you think they all know that I’ve just been to Thieves Lane services to put twenty kilos of washing in the pay-as-you-go machine because mine has broken?

I think the muddy Harley footprint on the toe of my Doc Martens might be the giveaway.

Richard Branson never mentioned this bit.

Forwards is forwards. 🧡