Why am I up and why am I writing? I’m supposed to be resting. Resting… rest– freedom from activity or labor; peace of mind or spirit.
Honestly, I don’t know how to rest. To be even more honest, I don’t believe I truly want to rest. It’s like there’s something inside of me that equates rest with laziness. If I’m resting, I’m being lazy. Does that make any sense? Why would the doctor tell me to rest, if he thought I’d become lazy?
Boy, the mental struggles I’ve been having. The day after my surgery, I was responding to work emails and answering phone calls. I had accomplished every goal the doctor had set. The worst thing they could’ve done was keep the list of goals in front of me. It was like a to-do list– shower at 9:00, walk at 10:00, walk again at 2:00. Finally my doctor had to tell me I wouldn’t receive gold stars for accomplishing my goals so quickly. I heard him, but in my mind I just had to do these things within a certain timeframe.
Today makes two weeks since my surgery. Everyday I struggle with the idea of resting. It’s not something that comes easily. It’s something that I have to make a conscious effort to do. It really is mental. One part of me is saying, “your body needs this to heal properly.” While the other is saying, “girl, you should be doing something.” Y’all the struggle is real.
My advice to myself is, stop telling other people to rest if you’re not going to do the same. Oh…the best advice ever (and I’m taking heed), turn your notifications off! I would say, put down that phone for a day, but I know that’s not going to happen. Lol!