This time last year I was fighting the urge to lay in bed, and do nothing with my days but write and plan. Socializing wasn’t my thing thanks to social anxiety and a kind of sort of heartache. And if it involved having to paint my face, battle a possible anxiety attack, and wear heals? Nah. No. Never. I wasn’t for it. If I wasn’t lounging in my house, I was lounging in someone else’s. Either way it didn’t include seeing the outside world and I wasn’t okay with that.
At the age of 25, I was hermit. I had very little friends in the city, wasn’t really living the expected NYC life, and I had a serious case of FOMO (fear of missing out). I made it my mission mid last year to get out of this socially suffocating shell, and well, it was hard but I managed to do it.
Fast forward a year, I haven’t spent a weekend in my bed since early May, and my next me-time-weekend is scheduled for the second week of September. I am always on the go. There is always something planned. My attendance is always being requested. My blog and organization is growing. And I have a social life that is being often put on the back-burners because this empire won’t build itself.
But I’m tired.
I’m really fucking tired.
But I asked for this, so I’m trying my hardest to not complain.
I used to shutdown over emotions running lose, now I want to shutdown because gray hairs are sprouting out of nowhere, and I miss the feeling of my bed on a Saturday afternoon. I used to force myself to work to fill the gaps of a lack of achievement, and now I force myself to work because I feel like I need to keep up with all the goodness the universe has sent my way.
I’m searching for a happy medium, not knowing if this happy medium exists. I’m watching everyone around me takes break to take care of them, and I’m fighting the urge to shutdown because for once life is working with me and my-larger-than-life-make-you-want-to-shit-your-pants dreams.
But I’m tired.
Really fucking tired.
But I asked for this, so I won’t fucking complain.
I’ll take it day by day with my Coschedule agenda and my Erin Condren planner. I’ll continue to write out frustrations and play jenga with day to day schedule. I’ll sleep when I can, and work in-between the blocked times. Execute events on adrenaline and take flights to and from speaking engagements like the pro I am inside of my head.
Even though I’m tired.
So, so, so tired.
But I asked for this, and I won’t take it for granted, and I won’t complain.