I know I fucked up.
I knew it last week on Wednesday but I kept going because it defiantly seemed to be worth it and now after a few days , I am starting to think it was again.
Last week my friend, who had just had surgery, asked me to come over and help sew masks and general PPE gear to send to hospitals around the country who need it (government making sure medical institutions are stocked up is a joke).
Because of me having my daughter and having the constant paranoia of missing out , I waited until she was in bed and headed out to come back in the early hours on the morning. Because of the way this body works, it would be a few hours after I came home before I could actually sleep.
And then I was up with my baby for the daily grind.
Now actually being out and helping my two amazing family friends ( yes, we social distanced like pros) was amazing, I felt productive and missed seeing other humans other then my Bean and my partner. It felt like I was actually doing something meaningful for once which is a feeling I have been craving for what seems like months.
It was the early hours of the following mornings and the constant new level of pain screaming at me through out the day that I hated. I knew I was driving into a flare up but I didn't want to miss a night where I could be helping and leave the long list of things to do to someone else. I can't lie and say there wasn't a part of me that felt angry that I couldn't keep up and that I may need a break as my other two friends have chronic illnesses too, they are different and work in different ways sure but why should I be the one to take the break when my friend just had a massive surgery and was carrying on?
If we asked my pain management physio she would be delighted to tell me I was taking a bad boom and bust cycle to a new level. I would roll my eyes because she didn't understand but I knew she would be right.
I had a inkling every morning that I needed to have a break and I needed to stop but by late afternoon I wanted to push forward and carry on, telling myself that its not actually causing any damage and it will be good for me mentally to go night after night , which is a statement I still do stand by to a point.
It wasn't until Saturday morning, I was laying on my couch unable to move and watching my daughter play , I realised that I done fucked up. I knew by me not taking a break and not resting when I should throughout the day, that I was unable to be there for my daughter in the little moments when we could just be together and enjoy each others company.
I called up my friend and told her I needed the break and of course there was no issue, it had only been me putting the expectation that I needed to do things on myself.
It has been a few days now since I've gone to help and while I defiantly plan on going back to help before we may or may not go into lockdown, I know now that I need to pace myself more and take the breaks when I need to.
While yes, I have had chronic pain and have gone through this cycle for nearly ten years and should know better, it was defiantly an added pressure on myself as I knew that these could be the last times I could see anyone for a while or be productive outside of my family unit.
This is a lesson to learn for myself and maybe one day it wont take me watching my daughter to make me realise that I need to take a break, maybe one day I'll take the break because I know I need it for myself.
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