i recently made a promise to my husband. i told him that i would start telling him anytime i felt like the world was pouring over my shoulders and it felt like i couldn’t breathe. but then i realized how often that feeling happens, and how often i would be telling him. i guess i am one of few people who carry the weight of the world around with them in their michael kohrs bags or tucked into their jean pockets. i say one of few because i feel like there is a massive outcry telling me to ‘let it go’ or something. but i have been like this my whole life; a rescuer, a fixer, a person who wants to be able to handle more than most and most importantly, a person who wants approval from others for taking on the most.
i will be honest. i am at capacity right now. totally full of things to do and people to take care of and things that make me proud and things that scare me to death and things that make me sad and all of the above times twelve. there are just so many emotions happening all at once and i am trying to knock my ‘to-do list’ down to less than eight things. and i am worrying over things that don’t need to be worried about. because worrying is a lot like chewing bubblegum to solve an algebraic equation; it’s useless. and honestly i laid down like an hour ago, with the intent of writing about anxiety. because i am anxious right now. like on a scale of one to ten, a thirteen. i have been off work for a break for nine days and going back always brings a lot of anxiety. and so this post was going to be about anxiety. but honestly, it is about so much more. i am at capacity. between my anxiety and my weight and my friendships and my marriage and my schedule and my schoolwork and heading back to work and family and money and jealousy and grief and old friends and new ones and making sure i am everything to everyone. full. at capacity. so here i am, just venting to the world that i need a little bit of room. some space to take some breaths. i am asking the universe to be a little kinder, a little lighter, a little gentler. when i look back at all that i have been through, most would call me a warrior. i have been battling my own mind for three decades. i buried my beautiful best friend nearly four years ago. i am in a profession that stretches me and twists me and shapes me on the daily. i have body issues, eating issues, processing issues. i am up and down and all around and i cling too quickly and get left behind far too often. i have slept far less than most and have cried way more than most. i have set boundaries and crossed them and have walked miles to get to some that are my closest. i am at capacity most days; but you wouldn’t necessarily know it.
there is a saying that you can’t pour from an empty cup, which i guess is true. but what if we stopped pouring altogether? what if we all just sat together and had a tea party and drank from our own cups? what if instead of constantly refilling our cups from empty, we never let them get that low? instead we pour from our souls, sipping slowly from that precious cup. filling others by simply being present. and remaining sacred and holy to what we hold in our cups.
you can’t pour from an empty cup, that is true. but i also don’t have to drain my cup to make myself feel whole.