A Moment of Vulnerability (free-write)

Why is it so hard to take care of myself? Why is my natural inclination to push and push? Is it because I’m a woman? Is it because I’m black? My women people have to keep going. We have to work harder to compete with men and “prove” we are equal, even though we are still constantly told we are not. My black people have to keep fighting. We have to work harder to compete with white privilege, even though we are still constantly told we are nothing.

I am laying here on the couch post serious oral surgery. My mouth is swollen. My gums are sore. And I am crying because I can’t go to work tomorrow*. I didn’t nap today because “I’m stronger than that”. I am exhausted, yet I want to pull out my tablet and work on a project with no deadline.

Why? Why did I continue to work with walking pneumonia until my dad had my sister guilt me into staying home? Why did I have a miscarriage at work and continue working? Why didn’t I take time off from work to mourn the passing of my grandfather?

Why do I equate “work” with my “worth”?

Why is it so hard to just sit… and be still… and just be me?

Why do I feel guilty for spending the day catching up on reality tv shows instead of listening to audio files to enhance my career goals?

Maybe I just feel down because I have 4 more days without work. This should be a vacation. But, I guess I don’t really know how to vacation. Maybe, I should call my sister. Maybe, I just feel isolated**…

________
|*It’s “tomorrow”.
|**I received a text right after I finished this, which ended up becoming a phone call. It lifted my spirits a bit.

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