Gymnastics

Written Spring 2022

There are so many times that I think through whats going on in my head and look at my kids around me and the other people around me and realize there is no possible way they can ever realize the amount of mental gymnastics it takes for me to get through most days. 

That won't make sense really to most people. Of course everyone has to work through emotions in a day. Of course everyone has to work mentally to stay present and on a good path. Of course everyone has to keep their emotions in check. 

That's not what I mean. 

When I say mental gymnastics, what comes to mind? Someone having a fun floor routine through the life and through their day? Crowds cheering because they flip so gracefully through the air?  No. That's not what I mean. 

I mean doing the entire floor routine on a balance beam, backwards, while dragons with the jaws of debilitating depression are breathing fire on your heels waiting to consume you... and the piercing anxiety and ever present inability to handle stress may as well be wolves just waiting, howling, and biting at any part of you they can reach, while screaming that you've already lost your footing so give up and give in to the thrashing inside your mind. 

There isn't anyone cheering you on. They can't see your beautiful balance, or the way you catch yourself before you fall prey to what is pulling you downward. They can't see the way you hold your head up and keep moving forward and keep  holding everything together. They can't see it and you don't want them too... because to understand it they would have to experience it, and you hope they never, ever understand.  

Mental gymnastics is physically stopping myself from tipping over the edge, even as my body leans and bends and wants to go where it is easy to fall... I stop myself. I stop myself from being swallowed by the waves of hurt that crash against me, throwing me against the rocks and swirling around my feet as I struggle to stay standing. I steady myself, I hold myself in balance, I remind myself my thoughts are just thoughts and the pain is just pain, that the hurts are just hurts, that none of it is me. None of it is who I truly am. 

I hold myself up, I will myself to steady and get ready to flip, hurtling myself up and over the waves and keep forward motion. I choose to stay up. I choose to stay out of bed. I choose to look to someone and lighten my voice and say something kind. I choose to work through the waves hitting me and reach out and dance instead. I tell the dragons and wolves below me to stay away, that they don't get to have me today. 

I choose to flip, turn, balance, shimmy past the fears of whether I am good enough or even capable. I choose to step forward, step back, rest, stand, and stay upright when I don't feel like I can but I do it anyway. 

I choose to give myself grace. I choose to give myself rest, to take a moment and breathe... I choose to stay. 

Because often I don't want to. There is an ever present pull to keep me in pain, barely breathing. There are so many days I think it would be easier to just end this, but I look at my kids and I can't. I can't hurt them like that. I don't want to. 

But it takes so much mental work to flip through all of that and remind myself what I do want, and bring myself back to the present of what life really is and keep myself from being consumed. 

There are days the dragons sleep, the wolves are fed, and there is a level of peace there. The days where the sun shines and I feel its warm rays on my face. The world is light and the winds are calm. The waves are sparkling and gentle and I can run on the beach and feel the sand beneath my feet and the balance beam is gone.  Those are the days that I soak up the sun on my face and my hair free in the salty breeze.

Those are the days I feel free and truly me.