I'm not a particularly impulsive person, but I do sometimes get very excited about a new idea or potential project and leap in without doing my homework or a cost-benefit analysis. I am also one of those people who pushes myself way too hard; as in, collapse-in-a-dry-heaving-pile-just-over-the-finish-line-every-time too hard. This unfortunate combination means I get stressed out of my mind, nearly killing myself trying to make something happen the hardest way possible. Every time, when I eventually make it to the end, I moan to myself, "why didn't somebody tell me _________ before I started?!" Well, my dear, because you didn't stop to ask.
So, as part of my new contract with myself, I'm pushing the pause button before grabbing on to major new projects or agreeing to do something for someone, no matter how shiny and exciting the ring looks. Caution is my new modus aparandi. Conservation of spoons my first law of surviving and thriving past the finish line.
The other day brought a double whammy of imposter syndrome. I started the soggy wet morning by meeting with an illustrator I've engaged to bring a series of children's books I've written to life. While I have published a number of things, a book, and a children's book in particular, is taking me way out on to a limb I never even looked at before. No matter how much encouragement I receive from everyone, including my own child for whom the stories were penned, I can't completely tune out the niggling negative voice insisting this is all a crazy, hair-brained venture that will never fly. But I feel these books are really important; I can't find anything else out there like them. I want there to be books in this world like this for children like mine. I'm compelled to make this happen, but my gawd I feel like such a phoney.
I arrived home from my meeting to find an email inviting me to give an extensive talk at a national major industry conference, which completely threw me for a loop. My first instinct was, 'oh wow! hey cool! OK!!", followed quickly by, "ohmyfuckinggodwhatamIthinking" and an overwhelming urge to hide under the covers. I hedged my bets and sent a polite email to the organisers thanking them for the invitation and asking for some additional information I needed before I could consider accepting. Then I promptly buried myself in work for the books, did my best to forget about it the next day, and came down with a cold.
After two days with these two "problems" running constantly in the background preventing me from getting much sleep or giving my full attention to anything else pressing, I am full-blown sick and decided it was high time to just spend the day in bed. This is not something I typically allow myself. My default is to "soldier on" and try my best not to spread my germs to others, but today I said "no, you need to rest." Near the end of a day binge watching The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and indulging in my favourite stim, I finally wrote to my closest mentor and asked for his input on the invited speaker quandary. He concurred that I was right to be cautious and that if he were in my position he would be flattered but suggest someone else for this particular event. The best mentors don't tell you what to do, they act as sounding boards with the added wisdom of their extra years of experience.
So, in an attempt to take a page from the very books I'm writing and flip the narrative on my situation, I'm inviting myself to see the decision to decline this invitation as smart self care, rather than an opportunity missed. I've spent 40 years beating myself up physically, mentally, professionally, personally, emotionally, and spiritually - it's beyond time that I started making self care my highest priority.
