Catching up has an order of progression, doesn’t it?

I knew that moving would help me by reducing the amount I had to pay each month, which would reduce my stress, let me spend less time chasing new work, and more time on the tasks and chores that are necessary for a functioning life. I was right about that, and more — I’m sleeping better, for one. (A lot better, actually.) And I’m managing the day-to-day tasks in a way I wasn’t able to before; keeping up with what’s due now is a novel feeling I’d like more of, thanks.

What I didn’t realize is that, five weeks later, I’m still getting caught up. Not with the immediate tasks, because I’m doing okay there, but with all the things I’d put aside because it felt like I didn’t have the time or brain to even consider them. I was, as they say, all out of spoons. I was surviving, and barely at that. So, paperwork? Getting back to someone I was already late to reply to? That project or idea I’d wanted to start back in December? That stuff, I didn’t remotely have the capacity to tackle.

Now I do. So, I am. But it’s a weird feeling, to be catching up and behind at the same time, because for me, that usually came with a crushing amount of stress and fear and avoidance. (Yeah, I avoid people when I think they’re going to be mad at me. I know why, I’ve had therapy, and I’m much better about it these days, but at my worst, it’s still an issue.)

I got through February doing almost everything February required. Schoolwork? Done. My apartment? Unpacked, organized, and currently clean. (Even the bathroom, the place most people put off tidying until the very end.) I also got around to sleeping regularly, spending more time with my son, and even joining a gym to get the exercise I desperately need. HUGE IMPROVEMENT, clearly.

My goal for March is to stay caught up, finish the things that were due in January, and maybe even start on December, while staying caught up with the now. For the first time in a long time, I think it’s possible.

Some day I will talk about my first 5 years in Ithaca (because it’s been 5 whole years, now) as the hardest and most useful time of my life. It’s been both, mostly because I struggled to not just get what I wanted, but to be who I wanted to be. I had to grow up, in a way I wasn’t even aware of before I moved here. I think I did.

I’m not quiet where (or who) I want to be yet, but I see it clearly, and I know what I have to do. It’s just a matter of staying on this path and continuing to put in the effort. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, after all.

I know that I can do the work, given enough time. I know I will. I know that whatever knocks me down, I’ll keep getting up and getting back on track, trying to do the right thing, even if I’m the only one who sees it. I’m a much stronger person than I ever was before, because of the last 5 years. I might even be a grown up.

I like that.

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