Permission to Chill

     I've always been one of those people that was "on" constantly. I never took breaks from anything that I was working on whether it was stuff for school, writing, or any other goal that I could come up with to reach. I even pushed myself with my first novel, and I finished it in 4 months and 12 days. I felt lazy and then guilty for not pushing myself to constantly work on something if I tried to take a break. (I thought people that wanted to accomplish things couldn't take breaks.)
     I lived my life this way even after my issues with OCD started when I was nineteen. By then, staying busy was the way I coped. If I was busy doing homework or working on a novel, then I didn't have to think about the intrusive thoughts, and that also meant I was distracted from my anxiety. It worked pretty well over the years until I would go on breaks and run out of things to do. Then I just hoped and prayed that no one noticed that I was crazy, evil, or possessed or I lied about the cause of my anxiety and social withdrawal.
     I tried to continue staying busy and pushing myself even after my recurrence of severe symptoms in July. I went to the Emergency Department for a panic attack one day, and the next day, still loopy on Ativan, I attempted to get back to work planning my second novel. I refused to take any time to sort my mind out because not doing something made me feel lazy.
     Over time it got harder and harder to concentrate on my work. I couldn't settle on an idea to turn into a book. I'd pick something, and then I'd change it a few weeks later because working on it made my anxiety level rise. I had 2 single novels, a trilogy, and the beginning of a series planned out, and I couldn't concentrate enough to work on any of them. Not to mention the fact that most days I was so exhausted that all I wanted to do was curl up somewhere and take a nap. It was taking way more of my energy to fight off anxiety than I was willing to admit. (I never knew how exhausting mental illness was until this summer.)
     Then my therapists (my first therapist and the new private therapist that I currently work with) told me that I push myself too hard. The therapist told me that she sees that I push myself to accomplish twice as much as everyone else, and that I was pushing myself to make leaps and bounds when I should have just been glad I could take baby steps. Here's the problem with that: pushing myself to be as normal as possible and still as "on" as I had been before this recent upheaval was causing me more anxiety because I was failing at achieving what I thought I should be achieving every day. Here's the other problem with pushing myself as hard as I used to: my mind needs time to rest just as much as my body needs to rest, and when I don't take time to rest mentally, just like if I don't rest physically, symptoms get worse.
     To make me see the error of my ways my therapist likes to ask me, "If you were counseling someone, would you expect from them what you're expecting from yourself?" My answer is always, "Of course not!" So, one of my New Year's resolutions was to focus more on actually getting well. To do that, I realize now (after months and months), that I actually need to chill out a little bit so my mind can catch a break. I don't have to be so "on" all the time. Sure, I might not write another book in four months, but that doesn't mean I won't ever accomplish anything.
   In 2016, to get well, I'm giving myself permission to chill. I'm working on slowing down a bit. I keep reminding myself that just because I'm taking things a little more slowly these days doesn't mean that I'm lazy. It means I'm taking care of my mental health just like I take care of my physical health.
     I'm also trying not to put as much pressure on myself. I'm still planning a lot of the bits and pieces for the second novel that I have yet to actually start and focus on, but I'm not forcing myself to plan the whole thing in a day. I'm also not forcing myself to be as close as I can possibly be to perfect anymore. I'm realizing that doesn't work whether you have mental illness or not. So, I'm trying to relax my standards I set for myself because it's okay to not be okay some days. It's not humanly possible to be okay every single day.
     2016 is a whole new year, and I'm doing things I've never let myself do before. I'm actually picking shows that I like and watching them on Netflix or on TV instead of recording them and only letting myself watch them when I feel like I've accomplished enough that day. I'm taking time out of my day just to color because coloring relaxes me. I'm also taking whole days off from writing just to do something fun like watch some of my favorite movies or just to talk to other people on Facebook, through texts, or occasionally, phone calls. I try to find things that make me laugh because laughter does wonders for my anxiety. (I may or may not narrate my cat's daily life, with dialogue. I also may or may not spend time imagining my life as a romantic comedy with Chris Evans as the leading man.) I've also picked back up on reading before bed instead of just going and going until I tuck myself in at night.
     I'll end with this: Life can be exhausting and overwhelming, and it can feel even more exhausting and overwhelming when you're dealing with any kind of upheaval, like mental illness. Stress can exacerbate the symptoms of mental illness. You wouldn't expect someone still recovering from the flu to get up and run three miles every day like they did before the flu, so you shouldn't expect yourself to be able to keep up the same pre-mental illness pace of life all the time. It's okay to have days that all you get accomplished is breathing, eating a meal, and maybe even laughing at your favorite book, movie, TV show, or something funny your pet did. Everyone on Earth could really use a chill out day now and again, and we shouldn't feel guilty about it. No one should ever feel guilty for taking the time out to de-stress and take care of their mental health.