Ever have one of those weeks where you feel like a crap wife, a crap mum, a crap writer, a crap business owner, a crap runner, a crap everything? ME TOO. Now intellectually I know, that it’s probably not true. I mean, I might be crap at one of those things or two or three even, but absolutely crap at all of them in the space of one week is unlikely. But it feels true, even if it isn’t. And the incongruence between knowing that it’s not true and feeling that it is true in your bones just makes you feel even more crappy. Because you are a walking first world problem. Other people have REAL PROBLEMS. You are just an idiot. So I guess you could add crap brain and crap sense of your own privilege to that list as well.
And then when you should be enjoying your alone time on your last preschool day for the week, you find yourself sitting on your couch eating chocolate biscuits wondering at what point you should stop logging them in My Fitness Pal. And you try not to let all the things that people said to you this week not fester into giant judgements that just confirm what a crap human you are.
Generally I like to do self-pity alone. Less embarrassing that way. The great thing about being alone is that I’m always here when I need me. And I don’t like self-pity in general. I tolerate it briefly because sometimes it’s necessary to just let it be a crap week to get you from point A (crap week) to point B (not crap week).
What I know even deeper than the pervasive crapness of this week is a few things. It doesn’t matter if you fall down nine times, you just have to get up ten. Accept no quarter. Work.