Don't Cry Over An Unmastered Language
Y'all, I need to be real. Lately, I've been feeling bad about myself. And it's not just the my-lipstick-doesn't-go-with-the-season bad about myself (which is a valid feeling in and of itself). No. It's the questioning and overthinking every single action I do and word I say.
And all this time, I've been trying to figure exactly what is behind this new, negative self. Is it because I'm not a child protege that won gold at the Olympics? Is it because I never fully mastered the Spanish language? Am I suddenly despondent that I couldn't finish reading my book before it had to be returned to the library?
Well, actually, yes. Yes to all of the above.
I know. What silly reasons to be upset and discouraged, eh (you know what they say: don't cry over an unmastered language. Cause that's a real saying.)?
Yeah, here's the thing. It's more the between-the-lines meaning of the questions above. What do they all insinuate? In my mind, they insinuate failure. A big, sad failure.
As someone with (multiple) chronic illnesses, failure is something I have to deal with quite often. From little things, like failing to wash my face before bed (because sometimes I'm. Just. So. Tired), to bigger things, like withdrawing from college courses, failure is an old friend.
Sometimes, I get a little bogged down by hanging out with failure all the time, and start to see myself in a negative light. That's where I've been lately, to be honest. I don't like it, but it's true.
I'm going to be working on giving myself some grace. Grace upon grace. Because you know what? God doesn't see me as a failure. He sees me as His beautiful and loved and cherished child that He is so very proud of. I'll be repeating that to myself PRN, aka all day ery day. But it's cool, cause if it's one thing I've learned from having illness, it's patience.
Talk to ya soon, my friends.