Identifying My Survival Mode

In March of this year, I received an email from an Instagram acquaintance asking if I would be interested in her Health and Wellness Coaching. My first reaction was resistance. I didn't want it to be a venting session, where we dived into my past and dug up some hurt that I had to work through. I was already feeling extremely overwhelmed and exhausted.

If your a mother, you know the feeling. Days come in an endless loop. We tell ourselves we need to take better care of ourselves so we have more to give. So we work a little harder on the menu to feel more nourished. We say no to chores, opting for an adventure outside or on the couch cushions. We dabble in our hobby a few extra minutes or meet with a friend. And if we feel the slightest bit of normal, something always comes up. ALWAYS. Sickness that has us on edge, a kids milestone in school or teaching them how to deal with hurtful feelings. And as a mother, you know I'm barely skimming the edge of what life is like with kids, while trying to care for ourselves.

When I received that coaching email, I was at rock bottom. Not able to breath.

I identified the feeling as survival mode, because I had no other words to explain it. Booking a vacation felt like more work than fun. Focused on the money and time and work, instead of the memories and relaxed shift in routine. Survival mode had me come up with the same fifteen dinner meals on repeat, and the desire to do more, but not the energy to put it into play. I thought I knew what I needed to lift the burden, made time for it, then would cross it off the list because the idea of doing one more thing brought more crippling weight. I self isolated, and didn't know why I felt lonely. I would sit down for deep breathing, stretching, and eating without distraction, as a way to "catch my breath" in the hustle. But those things made my skin crawl with goose bumps and my body would tense up, so I always reached for my phone or a magazine article to distract myself. I sought relief in reading, social media and late nights. No relief came.

When I got over my initial resistance of the idea of Health and Wellness Coaching, I gave it a serious thought. I was drowning, and this felt like a life line, even if it meant dealing with the root of my problems. I didn't really have anything to loose. And I didn't have to commit if I didn't want to. So I talked myself into the first phone call, knowing I would ask questions to gain a better understanding of what coaching meant.

Saving all the details for another time, I said yes to the coaching and we dived in. Months later, during one of our calls, I hear myself say "survival mode" in a nonchalant passing conversation. I scold myself later, asking what I could possibly be "surviving from". That I had the definition wrong. This vivid image from seven years ago comes into my head, and I realize it's the last time I felt safe... in who I was as a person and woman.

I instantly wrote a five year timeline:

August 2017: Sold our yellow house in Palmer, bought land, bought a 20' pull behind RV, and moved it onto the land and lived in it.

September 2017: Began to build our house. (Labeled green house later on.

February 2018: moved into the green house, which was still a work in progress.

June 2018: Jeremiah had a job in Fairbanks, so me and the kids moved to Fairbanks for the summer, spending days at the lake eating pizza.

August 2018: Jeremiah needs to stay in Fairbanks, so we decided to rent there and transfer kids to a new school so we can be together as a family.

April 2019: Jeremiah is out of work, we move back to Palmer into our green house and keep going with our building projects: building the garage, put on siding, install flooring and kitchen cabinets.

June 2019: We decided we missed Fairbanks and want to move back permanently.

July 2019: Jeremiah takes an out of state job.

August 2019: I move me and the kids 328 miles from Palmer to Fairbanks. We rent again, transfer kids school, and put the green house up for sale.

December 2019: Green house in Palmer sells.

March 2020: Jeremiah done with out of state job.

April 2020: We buy land in Fairbanks.

June 2020: We start building another house. (labeled later as red house.)

December 2020: We move into our unfinished red house, spend the next few months tying up loose ends like kitchen cabinets.

Summer 2021: We do no work. Take the summer off enjoying the 80 degree weather and life on the river.

Fall/Winter 2021: We do odds and ends around the house like carpet tile, painting some walls, and installing a wood stove.

Spring 2022: excited to start and finish fun projects like a garden shed, wood shed, bigger garden, patios, and red siding. Make plans to finish carpet and order window sills; the last of house work. From here, it becomes fun changes that let me be creative and make this house a home.

THIS... this timeline broke open a massive shift in myself! I instantly gave myself a mental hug. A pep talk, "Damn girl, no wonder your stuck in survival mode. You had to step up and do way more than is a normal day. You have done a superb job... but now, your ok. It's over. Your allowed to slow down. Learn how to get off this wheel. Whew it's going to feel so good to stop and feel safe again. How do we do that?"

This timeline was the visual aid I needed to realize that I had been neglecting my needs, desires, and interests. I thought I needed more - more inner work, more time, more balance, better foods and routines, more self care. But what I really needed was less hustle and more showing up for myself. I put myself on hold... because life was a lot. I had slowly chosen to make myself easier, to make the burden of life easier.

I neglected who I was.

I lost some trust in myself.

When I came face to face with this, it wasn't hurtful. It was relief. The missing piece all of these years, was myself. It sounds so clique to say it now. But how can I take care of myself in a way that last long term, if I'm not showing up for myself in the day to day small moments?

This blog post is me, showing up for myself, by doing something I really wanted to try. Identifying that the time and effort it takes to write this, I am worthy of it. I am choosing to do this, instead of mowing the grass, because I know right now my soul needs this, more than my body needs to work hard. One or the other is not more valuable, neither show my lack or abundance of work today. But it does show that I chose myself today.

I choose to take three, belly deep breaths when my body can't sit still, for fear of losing value and purpose.

I choose to reassure myself with words like "you are safe" when my mind wants to panic over things in the environment it cannot control.

I choose to have a life where I can accept all parts of myself, and my environment. Where my inner an outer being can coexist, as both being valid of how they feel and what they need.

I choose me and my wellbeing; even if the garden is neglected, I buy sourdough instead of making it, I don't clean the house weekly, I say no to hanging out with friends, I don't clean my car, I watch TV instead of going outside in the sun, or I don't buy organic or go to the farmers market.

I choose me.

Every time.