I don’t use that term easily, even about myself. I think it is an odious epithet that should not come to mind regarding anyone – let alone someone you love. But today I feel mentally and emotionally incapacitated.
I just spent several minutes in the closet crying real tears. Sobbing. Because I could not pull a jacket over my three-quarter sleeve shirt without the sleeves bunching up. I know I can get one side down. I know if the sleeves are loose enough my husband will do everything in his power to help me, but I could not regain equilibrium enough to ask for help. (One of my least favorite things.)
I just mentally stomped my feet and went into the bathroom after pulling a poncho over my head. Instead, I was in a full-fledged pity party. “Waa waa, I cannot wear what I want.”
Even at these times rational thinking eventually overcomes frustration and I can move to a more realistic perspective. it’s a beautiful sunny winter day. I live in a lovely apartment. I can choose from several pair of earrings that I am capable of putting on.(Important!) I have food. I should have gratitude
But really, when I arrive in such a place it is beyond my ability to center myself without a change of scenery. I’ll go take a walk now.
Maybe listen to a podcast on self-acceptance…