i am one hundred percent the type of person who carries the weight of the world. often times, you can literally just look at me and you’ll be able to see just how much i have stacked inside me. and while in reality, i am selfless and a giver and a million other adjectives; most of the time, everything feels heavy.
it’s been over a decade since a specialist at hopkins confirmed my greatest fear- that a mood disorder would be chained to my leg for eternity. i rose above it, relabeled it, redefined how i wanted to be seen; chemical imbalance and all. but still, the world is heavy. we have talked about the great responsibilities that we all hold; from the titles we proudly deem to the roles we play in dozens of lives. from working out to grading papers to cooking dinner to mopping the kitchen floor to picking up prescriptions or a kid from dance practice or making cupcakes for a party. it’s all there; the responsibility, the weight. i picked up the weight of the world right around the time i was diagnosed. twenty years young, completely turned around about the meaning of life and what a purpose is. but also feeling boxed into what had been laid upon my shoulders. i have always felt like i have owed it to everyone to be a better version of the mess that i was. so for the last eleven years, i have been carrying around this weight of everything i thought i had to do or be in order to be seen as better or okay. and here i am, lugging it around knowing damn well it ain’t working anymore.
because here’s the truth; i can’t do it all. and maybe you can’t either. or maybe you can and if that’s the case; you go girl. but my brain feels heavy. maybe it’s because i am failing this doctoral class or maybe it’s because all of my laundry is wrinkly. there’s a lot of not good enough piled into my brain. topped with a massive to do list and a mile long list of things i am currently failing at. sprinkle on the comparisons that i make daily mixed with not owning a home, rehoming my dog, trying to lose weight, working on my marriage, trying to be organized, trying to save money, arguing with someone on social media, trying not to cry over spilled milk. the list is seriously endless. the weight of the world is literally crushing me.
twenty minutes ago, i literally panic called my doctoral counselor and cried on the phone while telling her how horrible i am at life. just so ya know, morgan and i have talked like twice on the phone so clearly i just basically word vomited to a stranger. sobbing into my phone which was basically dying with its fourteen percent charge and while she heard me, i realized that the only person who is responsible for the heaviness is me. i have full control over the weight. i can drop whatever aches my bones or torments my soul. so what is holding me back? the weight of the world is too much for one person. the heaviest parts will roll you down and flatten you. it’s not meant to be done alone. it’s not meant to be done silently.
so after i finished throwing a massive ‘why am i becoming a doctor when i am not smart enough to be a doctor’ party, i wrote this blog post. not because i want you to rsvp to said party but because well, one • it’s okay to have those kinds of parties just as long as you kill the lights and send the deejay home before it gets too wild and two • failure is okay. perfection doesn’t have to be the end result. you don’t have to carry the whole world on your back or your shoulders or in a cute tote bag. you can carry what you want. it’s okay to forget to fold your laundry or send a text back or whatever. it’s even okay to fail an assignment or a class. as long as you’re meeting your own expectations not the world’s.
the weight of the world is heavy. the weight of life is heavy. hell, even just one thing at a time can be heavy. carry whatever the hell you want. or hire someone to do it.
but don’t let the world crush you. xo.