Limited

I hate being limited.

This weeks illness has given me a run for my money, emotionally as well as physically. It has made me realize how much I feel, between my diabetes and my overall fever induced fatigue, my limits as a person. It seems like a silly thing to realize, because in reality everyone has limits, and yet I find there is within me a piece of my psyche that absolutely abhors these limits.

The limitations being sick has put on me reminds me of how fragile I am physically, even if my mind is resilient. There is only so much my body can do. There is only so much I can invest in people, causes, and events. My time on earth is limited, and yet, I find that I hate the feeling of those limits. I hate not being able to get through a day without feeling super exhausted. I hate that I constantly feel betrayed by my body because of my chronic and acute illnesses. I hate that I have to give up spending time with other and the fun I could be having…because my body is limited. Especially when my mind feels like it could go and go forever.

I never thought of myself as a perfectionist. I always considered myself pretty flexible and open minded. Yet, I find that even in my flexibility, there is only so far that I can bend, and my psyche is inexplicably wounded by this concept. Why can’t I do more? Why can’t I be more? Why do I fail to impress myself? Why the fuck is this so crippling?

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