Pacing Yourself in Times of Turmoil

As Inauguration Day drew closer with the start of the new year, I felt a wave of anxiety crashing over me, and then another, and yet another. Every day began to fill me with dread at what was on the horizon. This was supposed to be an exciting time. Really, the new year was supposed to be everything I ever dreamed growing up. This is the year I finally accomplish my dream of becoming a published author. I will finally be able to see my book among others on the shelf in bookstores. I’ve spent countless trips to Target over the years with no intention of buying a book, usually there for every day items, but I’d still make my way to the books and stare at the shelves. I’d visualize what that day would feel like.

I never thought it would come at a time like this. I only ever wanted to bring joy into the world with my words, but they’re coming at a time of pain for so many. I know I certainly feel the weight each and every day. I feel it as a brother, an uncle, and friend of girls and women who have their bodily autonomy dictated by men. I feel it as a queer person myself and friend to many others, especially trans folks who are targeted relentlessly. I feel it as a public educator, as my career, those of my colleagues, those of my friends come under attack and our students used as both props and targets themselves. As a neighbor as good, hardworking folks are rounded up like cattle and sent Lord only knows where at this point without a shred of dignity.

This has made it difficult to find the words to type in a blog post. I try to make this blog more about my running thoughts, as sort of a way to say how I’m feeling and to communicate those feelings. I don’t even know if anyone reads these frankly — I just write them. Or I did until my thoughts were so clouded and jumbled up that I didn’t feel I could focus in one direction for this.

But that’s just it. I realized that I was giving too much of myself in too many directions. It was exhausting me, hurting me, sending me into a depressive state that I don’t feel comfortable showing people. My eating habits have been terrible these past few months — so much so I earned a shiny jagged kidney stone for my efforts. It was harming me emotionally and physically.

But I’m working on pacing myself — understanding that to give more of yourself than what you have, more than is healthy for you, you aren’t actually helping anyone. Speaking in small but impactful incriments, setting limitations on your information intake, narrowing your focus to specific issues, and making time for the things that bring me joy — these are things I’m working on doing. It’s not a perfect solution, but I know that if I keep doing what I’d been doing to myself, I’ll be no help to any cause I care about.

So that’s what I’m trying to do. If I do figure out exactly what that looks like for me down to a routine, I’ll write a follow-up.

I hope you are taking care of your needs too. It’s often observed in my field that teachers will more often than not put themselves last. From my own experience, that’s been very true to my nature. Please remember to bump yourself up at least a few spots. I want you all here and healthy and with enough energy and vigor to not only get through this but to celebrate when the sun rises again.

You are not alone in what you’re feeling. You are justified in it. If you need to sit in it for a while, I’ll sit beside you. And in time, we will stand up and march forward together too. I see you, I’m here for you, I’ll stand up for you, and I’m always proud of you. So be good to yourself, because you deserve the good.