I Expect People to be Humans and Myself to be a Machine
I got sick last weekend.
Wait, that’s a lie.
The whole vegetables dinner I strategically had thinking I was getting sick
I think I got sick about 2 and half weeks ago when I landed at Newark Airport.
My ears didn’t pop as we came down like they normally do and that was the first “bodily warning” that something was off.
I ate whole vegetables for dinner that day and slept early. Then I hit the ground fast at work the next day, designing our new office space and moving into it. I was having fun. Every day I carried over a little fatigue in my body but the words “you are not sick” was on replay in my mind.
I pushed through feeling good enough to work and play but then came a disgusting, vicious cough. A non-stop, heavy mucus cough that would go for 2 straight minutes. I had to mute myself on meetings and turn off my camera to run for water and wipe my tears. When this started to happen, I left the office.
That was the day I finally called it for what it was. “You’re sick,” I told myself.
And I still am as I write this but I’m on the path to recovering from this nasty flu.
I took a PCR upon landing and it came back negative. I took another one yesterday, also negative.
I get mad at myself for being sick
You sleep well. You run. You eat salads. You grew up making mud pies of backyard dirt, your immune system is practically ironclad. What the fuck is breaking down? Are you kidding me???!
That’s all I hear in my head.
I expect myself to be operating at high level energy so when my body decides to give me something else, I get upset… at my body.
When a close friend who I love is sick, I strongly encourage them to rest, take things very easy, drink water, eat pho, and let me know what I can do or what I can bring over. An honest, compassionate version of myself shows up for them.
When I get sick, a hardcore, disappointed version of myself shows up for me. I look in the mirror wondering where the hell the malfunctioning is happening and what medicine I need to take ASAP. Get it together.
I like hitting the ground fast at work - it’s my personal style. I was having fun… until I wasn’t when the flu entered my system.
I feel guilty about missing work
I started a new job last month and I can’t come in because 1. I’m not feeling 100% and 2. I’ll cough up a storm around the team I care about.
Feeling guilty for missing work when your body isn’t healthy is stupid, I know. I’m just - I don’t know how to figure this out one yet. It’s probably a New York work culture thing. Again, I haven’t figured it out.
Self-compassion, where the hell are you?
During a session with my coach, we were talking about self-compassion and I, without thinking, replied from my heart that I didn’t deserve compassion or a break from work because I wasn’t doing enough with my life.
A piece of our conversation that’s seared into my memory went like this:
Marc: so you don’t think you deserve to take a break?
Me: no
Marc: why?
Me: because I haven’t built anything
[A moment passed]
Marc: I want you to say that back to me— you don’t think you deserve a break because you haven’t built anything
Me:
Marc: [waited for me to say something]
I couldn’t say it back and instead I started to cry.
A deep sadness poured over me just by thinking about what I said.
Where is this coming from? Who’s permission am I waiting for to give myself a break? This isn’t about being hard on myself. It’s the opposite of being compassionate… I felt largely disappointed in me.
Similar feelings to getting this flu.
Disappointed.
Okay but I love being human
Writing poetry. Feeling music. Tasting good food. Holding hands. I love all the experiences and senses of being human. A lot of my creativity is spurred from these interactions.
I want more of my life to be filled with deep, human interactions.
Taking it easy on myself as I get back to health is honoring that I’m human. It’s honor what I love.
I love being human.