No breaks.

After a week of production and pride, the weekend comes, and I grant myself a break. I put aside everything that has been working for me for what? To sit around, say yes to my lazy ego, and fall 10 steps backward?

I have to give up breaks. It is too easy to choose what’s comfortable. Losing that positive momentum is such a gut check, and then the universe literally conspires against me. Let me share my real-life example-

Last week was a dream; I felt so inspired and on track. Saturday came, and I did my wonderful morning things. Quickly after, we were off the Cape Charles for a family day. I will never count an outing or a family day as a failure. Family time and experiences are necessary, and I still managed to do the little things towards my goals. Sunday morning comes. I have a more challenging time sticking with it, and that shit logic of it being the weekend, so it’s okay to take it easy creeps in. I slacked off on a little more than the day before. Still, I felt happy for sticking with some of it, congratulating myself for not regressing fully. Then Monday morning hits me like a train. I am not feeling it at all. I woke up early, before the kids but couldn’t get the words to flow from my pen to paper. I didn’t want to give in, so I said let me make my kids a hot breakfast, something, anything to feel productive and like I can still win this day. I do it. I make croissants, bacon and prepare lots of fruit. A win is a win, I got the wheels rolling, and now I can keep this up. I go to tidy the house, forcing my feet to move when every fiber of me doesn’t feel like it. Then…. I throw my back out.

After breaking up the millionth fight of the morning, I picked Thea up from behind me to the right and went to swing her onto my left hip. Something in my back instantly said nope. I was on my knees in one second, the fetal position in the next. Figuring out how to get up off the floor and into bed was interesting, to say the least. I have never tweaked my back like this before. Is this 30? (spirals about aging and not taking better care of my body)

But what is life if not a bitch? As soon as things start looking up and feeling good, something will throw a wrench in it all. It’s like the world’s way of asking me, “Are you really about it?”, “Will you keep doing it now, ahahahaha?” and calling me out on every doubt and imposter syndrome feeling I have.

Choosing to keep going takes a lot of work. Feigning motivation I don’t have is such a challenge. I have to remind myself- 54321, do it. Do it now. Ignore the excuses. This blog post sucks. I’m not proud of it. Do it. Write it anyways. Write something. Say something. Be real. It’s not about being monumental. It is about showing up.

All of this to say, I don’t deserve breaks. I deserve so much more for myself and from myself. I get way more from pushing myself through each and every time than I do taking time off. Breaks, time off, excuses- they’re all laziness creeping in. My ego keeps me stuck. Comfortable in the shitty. I know I don’t want to be there or be that. Let that be what keeps pushing me through.