I’ve just been sick in bed for 8 days. Literally in bed. Only out to go to the bathroom and maybe get a drink of water. Completely laid out. When I get sick like this, and it’s about once a year, I always blame myself. And well-meaning friends always ask, “How did you get it?” or “Where do you think you picked that up?”

I always chuckle because how could I possibly know? But then I wonder, should I know? Or, why don’t I know? Or, is something wrong with me that I have no idea and maybe that’s the reason I’ve got this sickness in the first place? It’s my fault! And there’s the gold… another reason to beat myself up. I got sick. I’m missing days of productivity now because of my not-knowing-ness-of-germs and their exact whereabouts at all times. I’m a failure!

Well, after these 8 days in bed and some serious soul-searching in between streaming TV-show-binges and hours upon hours of sleep and hot, steaming showers drenched with eucalyptus…

I’m calling Bullshit on that. It’s not my fault. It’s not anyone’s fault for getting sick.

I’ve had a heck of a year, including a lot of loss: I said goodbye to my marriage, I lost my best friend to suicide, I got my heart broken for the first time in 15 years. And I’m looking down the barrel of my Second Act which is at once exhilarating and also completely terrifying. I’m on the cusp of 44, a single parent, and on top of all that, I’m an artist. Which means I’m a sort of bohemian gypsy. I never know how it’s all going to work out. But do any of us, really?

My point is, what’s the deal with blaming ourselves when we have a perceived fail?

It’s my go-to every time! The truth is, my body needed to release the grief and emotions of loss that I’ve been wading through for the past year. And in a big way, a physical way. Yes, also it’s true that I caught a virus (no, I don’t know where). But ultimately, my body needed to shed these cells and transform into something new so that I can continue on and create from the dust of what I’ve lost and what’s behind me.  

I’m turning a corner today and able to write this blog post. And a few other items on my to-do list that had to be re-done to match the date today. And it’s all ok.

Why I won’t blame myself anymore

I am forgiving myself, my body, and life on life’s terms for making me take the time to rest and rebirth into my new normal. I can be gentle today and love myself enough to be compassionate and soft and even encouraging. This is a lifetime of work coming to fruition, folks, not an overnight affair.

Would I ever blame my son for getting a cold? Never. Would I get mad at my Dad for getting Cancer? Absurd. Or my dearest friend for being bi-polar? Not in a million years. But it’s the fear and anxiety underneath my productivity that wants to wring my neck anytime production slows down and I “miss” days of work. Because I am my own boss, I have myself to answer to. Which is awesome, but also, I can be a damn scary boss sometimes (to myself only).

So, no thank you to that voice. And yes, please to a hot cup of tea and a little nap before pick-up. Sleep is the most healing thing. (Acupuncture and Chinese Herbs have helped, too. Plus that eucalyptus shower thing.) And I can give that to myself. If only I allow myself some compassion and stop trying to blame anyone or anything. It’s part of the human process. I’m grateful to be here.

I love you. Keep going.

xoxo,

Jennifer