I Can’t. Or Can I?

Thoughts on navigating the transition from ‘disabled’ to ‘healthy’ in my twenties.

Photo by Callie Gibson on Unsplash

For the last two weeks, I have been reeling between highs and lows. It has been a time of transition.

And oof, transitions are a challenge.

For the last two years, I have been out of the workforce. I moved slowly and let my body and mind to rest and reset.

It is a gradual process, this work of healing.

Work.

I am looking for work. I want to work. I’m ready to work.

And, oh, I am so afraid.

What are you afraid of?

I keep asking myself this, conducting self-therapy sessions that circle around to the same fear.

But the fear is amorphous and it has many faces. Resistance, shame, self-doubt, anxiety — they press down on me until it is hard to breathe. They whisper in my ear the same phrase: I can’t, I can’t I can’t.

Except.

That is not true, not anymore.

I can.

I am strong, even in weakness.

I can.

I am healthy, even in fatigue.

I can.

Can I?

Yes. Yes. Yesyesyesyesyes.

Thank you internet for the space to affirm myself.

Because, oof! Transitions are hard.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, I am safe making changes at my own pace, I spent two years listening to Louise Hay affirmations while falling asleep. I only need to do one thing at a time.

You hear that, fear?

Anyway. This body-mind needs to rest for the night. My dreams have been worried and angsty lately. Transitions, man.

I almost didn’t post this, but I needed to show myself that I can. I am showing up. Following through.

It’s always a process, slow and steady, step by step. Every step counts, even if it is only twenty five minutes.