Work is a habit I wear like armour

I was doing my thought download tonight. I was thinking about what my coach said this week in my monthly 10m meeting. I need to work on feeling my feelings. I’ve been working on feeling my feelings about work (I am a terrific student I tell you). Monday, felt nothing, Tuesday, Wed, nothing. Then tonight (Th) I asked myself, if I woke up tomorrow and won the lottery and didn’t have to work for the rest of my life, how would I feel? Whoa. Not elated. Panic. Nauseous. Naked. But then I said, hey, it is a feeling. It must have a thought…
C- winning lotto ticket
T- I am worthless
F- sad
A- Buffer, find work to do
R- never change the conversation. Live in scarcity instead of abundance, no matter the bank balance

So, I sat with that sadness. That little girl inside me who wasn’t loved for who she was, but what she produced (dinner, As, witty commentary, silence, forgiveness). I sat with that little girl and held her and told her what I tell my babies. I love you for who you are and for how God made you and I love you no matter what.

7 years ago after my 3rd and final child was born, I got PPD. I looked at my husband, at my 3 kids (one of whom I was nursing), and I said, there really is no reason for me to be here, is there? I wasn’t suicidal, I just didn’t think it mattered if I was around or if I disappeared forever. I went to the VA. I got help. But now, what if that was just that little girl breaking through for a moment, looking to matter? I medicated her out of existence. But there is a straight, short, line from there to here. It was all just right.

In sitting with that sadness I realized that I buffer away the sadness with work. Work is a habit I wear like armour. I cover myself in it. I am whoever my clients need me to be. But, it isn’t a habit. It’s a burqua, allowing the world to project itself onto my body. I shield and hide and work. I work till I come home and I don’t know how to take it off. And so instead of taking it off, I work harder at seeing through the window in the fabric over my face. My purpose is to blow my own mind and take off that burqua and stand in the sun and be seen.