Today, I was forced to take time out from the outer reality. I rest. Lying in bed, reading, sleeping, thinking. Listening inward. To find the way forward, forward. Writes. I have to write. For today I found a step in the right direction.
An inner vacillation have always influenced my way through life. A constant consideration-how much should I feel for/ignore? Admit/hide? View out/carry alone? Fight against/give in to?
It's not about difficult things. Just that with my basic personality; a little wary, a little quiet, a bit easily startled, a bit sensitive to the nuances of life. Some tunnhudad, some would say. And it has always felt like if it is wrong to be such. As if to pretend to be tougher than you are. Or is it no fun kind, no one becomes medbjuden, remembered. It has felt like a constant failure to not be that powerful, talkative, energetic, social, inventive type. The things that happen, that has many irons in the fire, which survives on 6 hours of sleep per day and who loves to make new contacts and constantly keep steam up.
Most of my life has been that I forced myself to pull me up, sharpen unto me, stop sjåpa me and start taking for me. "Don't be so shy!"-I do not know for sure if it was so, but it's as if the whole world drummed up that message when I was a child. I stammered and went with the speech therapist. I was shy, mammig and dreamy.
I forced myself to stop being shy, and played the adult game right successfully in good years. It was instructive and nothing I regret. I really jerked me up) Now I find myself in the midst of life, experienced and happy, more satisfied and happier than ever, but on sick leave due to stress related disorders in daily occupations. Exhaustion due to excessive workload and for many of the organizations on the job as teacher. Maybe had I passed the pressure better and do not become ill if I been a more tough personality.
But now I am so ill, albeit considerably on the road to recovery, and that highly significant disease that periodically makes itself felt on an extremely erratic fashion. It does so that I'm more sensitive and tunnhudad for external appearance than ever before. Regularly I have to drag me back into silence and solitude in order to regain balance. Sometimes there is the need for emergency. I never know when it strikes. All I know is that "everything is just too much" sometimes, and it's not just a feeling-whole body reacts highly physical, with dizziness, nausea, chest tightness, tinnitus, heart palpitations and crippling fatigue.
I assume, that the sympathetic type I am, that I will be fully restored, although it will take a long time. But I am painfully aware that I might still be there, to this whimsical sensibility will be permanent. The forecast sees namely out so, that the longer it has been in stress that preceded the outbreak of disease, the greater the risk that the damage will be permanent. I was working under increased stress for at least five years.
I have many people in my vicinity which love me and want me well, and their benevolence has strikingly often expressed in good advice that I should not speak loudly (other than in private conversation) about my disease or display publicly with the symptoms that included. For example, it told me that it may not be wise to write publicly in the blog about how I feel, because I could be perceived as unstable. I have listened, and felt vacillation. Especially now, when I finally have launched this website, containing all my dreams about alternative methods of supply. I do not want to appear to be unstable, unreliable, one-kind-to-not-can-count-with. I wanted to contribute what I can. Be on the social bandwagon.
Yesterday I was listening to a fantastic concert. Anouar Brahem Quartet played in Goteborg, a 90-minute performance without intermission, and I floated as enchanted into a different world. The musicians played with such presence and imagination that it shone from the stage, they were swallowed up by what they loved to do, and their energy washed through me, gave me all the insight I needed: I am that I am, and I'm going to work as I am.
Which means that I'm going to be public with the I am, with all that that implies. Because if I can't be myself in public so it can actually set off. If I have to pretend to reach that elusive concept of "normal", so people will start to wonder what I fiddle with the days when I did not live up to the norms intangible values. In particular, I wonder myself …
Right now I'm working at 25%, i.e. 10 hours per week. The plan is that it's going to be 50% in the autumn. The disease follows no schedule. I may have several powerful days in a row. More and more often, I have energy, can be social, curious and empathetic. I'm on time. But some moments are becoming too much. I do not answer the phone, is tough to answer mail, says no to invitations and can probably be seen as uninterested and inattentive.
I have reached a point in the process that makes me still feel proud and strong. I want to show it. How does it look, to be Kim, right now. Exhausted, powerful. Tired, sustainable. Engaged, inattentive. Beginners, experienced. Van kel brave, stubborn.
I continue forward, further on my development travel by boats, with photography, with the writing. With become, thinking. And I want to share with you.
I know that I have something to contribute.