Ambition

Every day for me with chronic illness is new. Every day as a person is new. I also feel like a circus juggler half the time: a ball for illness, four balls for four jobs, a ball for friends and family, a ball for hobbies, a ball for this blog, a ball for my YouTube channel, a ball for each Instagram page. So much to juggle. When I get overwhelmed, ultimately I have to throw some away. Recently I left two jobs, and I’ve decided to treat my social media as a secondary goal. Posts, and content will come at a much slower pace.

To me, those choices simultaneously lift a weight off of my shoulders, and break my heart. No matter what, I have some juggling balls I can’t drop, and that means giving up some that I love. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, it’s pretty normal. But it never fails to make me feel like a quitter.

I’m all together a perfectionist, ambitious, and a firm supporter of maintaining one’s health and well-being. Unfortunately, my body is insistent on me dialing back my ambitions a little.

I want to be that person, the one who can do all of her jobs on time and correctly. The one who can show up for all the social gatherings. The one who can do all the housework, errands, and cook all the meals. The who can ace all of her classes and never miss a school day. But, that isn’t reality, for anyone, and especially not me.

I make mistakes, I get tired, I lose motivation, and my body shuts down on me. Nothing goes as planned, and people are rarely as understanding, or as helpful, as the ideal. That’s life. That’s reality. It’s the way things are expected to be, by everyone. No one can do it all. No one is perfect. No one can do everything without help.

It’s hard, being ambitious and being sick. There’s the constant question of: “is this really my limit? If I didn’t have this illness how much more could I do? How much am I missing out on?” The answers are, it is right now, a lot, and more than I’d like, in that order.

Every missed party, every disappointed friend, every job left undone, is a crack in my confidence. I worry if I’m really going to be able to do the whole “adulting” thing.

Then I go out and actually do it.

And I realize, if I’m stressed, and sicker from the stress, and missing out because of that…. wouldn’t it be better to just do the things I know I have time and energy for? Adulting is just doing what you have to do. Pushing through the stress, being responsible, and planning your time wisely. And I can do, and have done, those things.

I don’t like to spend too much time away from some kind of work/hobby. I like keeping my hands busy because it makes me feel like I’m using my time wisely (and partly because that’s how I deal with being hypersensitive and avoid sensory overload). And time always feels like it’s moving too quickly. And it is, but that time passing is not unique to anyone:

“The present is the same for everyone; its loss is the same for everyone; and it should be clear that a brief instant is all that is lost.”

~Marcus Aurelius; Meditations

One thing about going through sudden illness is that it reminds you how quickly things can change. In an instant you can lose your ability to eat, walk, or breathe. In a moment you could lose large parts of your life. So I spend every moment trying my hardest to make the most of my time. Trying to avoid life’s bullshit and pettiness and just live my live. I don’t always succeed. But I always take a good memory from every experience, good or bad. Even if all it is, is a warm cup of tea, or a brief moment of silence in a shouting match, or a warm heater in a cold room. I try to remember that even when I’m doing nothing, I’m still appreciating my life.

Leaving two of my jobs sucked, but the time and health I’ll gain from that choice will let me enjoy other things I like doing. Sometimes being ambitious is great, because I throw myself at certain kinds of experiences. Sometimes it’s not so great because most of my stress is pressure I put on myself, to succeed, to help, and to grow every day.

No matter what, I’m never going to stop being ambitious in my own way, and I’m never going to be able to do everything I want to. But, it would be pretty boring if I did everything I wanted as soon as I tried. Life is full of many brief moments, and we need things to fill them. And if I can grow in each moment, then I’ll feel like I’ve lived my moments to the fullest, illness or not. And if through my life I lose more of my health or abilities, then I’ll just have new goals, new juggling balls, and new moments.