20. THE LIMITS.
Limits.
Sometimes it’s difficult to know what your limits are until you’ve hit them like a watermelon dropped from the roof of a very tall building. Crash. Splat. Hello there, limits!
Other times you get lots of warnings you’re nearing the edge, but they’re an inconvenience, so you ignore them. I have a computer with some sort of fan problem. It sings this terrible song like an ice cream truck in a horror film when I turn it on in the morning. It warns me the end is near and it won’t be pretty. I’m either a fool or an optimist (both?) because I just back up my files and keep on going. Surely I can stretch it out a while longer.
Like my computer, when I’m stressed to the max, I revert to my factory settings—those hard wired traits at the core of my being established long ago. I’m one tough lady and it doesn’t happen often, but when it does—ooph.
Here’s what my default settings look like:
1) I’m hyper-responsible. I prioritize productivity, achievement, and action. “I can do more. I’ll work harder! I’ll take care of it—you can depend on me.” (You guessed it—I’m super fun at parties.)
2) I’m afraid I’m selfish. I perceive anything outside of direct service to others as selfish or self-serving. No matter where I am, what I’m doing, or how hard I’m working; I feel like I’m letting someone down.
I tell myself my value is in what I produce for others. At this stage of stress and fatigue, I’m not a human being—I’m a human doing. When I’ve hit my limit and I’m operating on my factory settings, it’s not possible to do or give enough to feel satisfied with my output, but I’ll still deplete myself trying anyway. Inevitably, I wind up silently crying in my car because the grocery store doesn’t have the pretzels I like. And then I know in the way the watermelon knows. Crash. Splat.
I recently went the way of the watermelon. After weeks of caretaking for my friend at end stages of terminal illness, grieving his loss, over-extending myself at work, and trying (and failing) to be super mom and wife; I broke a little. I hit my limit.
Y’all come here for insights and advantage-extracting hacks and not so much for pity parties, so I’ll get to the point. I’m not perfect and I have struggles like you do. I try to use my painful experiences to help us both get stronger, wiser, kinder and more compassionate. See, there’s an advantage to hitting my limits. We grow from here.
Am I recommending you exhaust yourself to find your boundaries? NOPE. Absolutely not. Listen to the creepy ice cream truck tunes and steer clear! But if you’ve hit the wall like I did, might as well read the writing on it and spot the advantages. Here are mine:
· Crashing to a halt reminded me that caring for myself is essential. I can’t take care of others without taking care of myself first. That’s not selfish, it’s smart.
· My factory settings are coping skills I developed to survive, but they won’t help me thrive. When I’m using those old patterns of thinking, it’s a sign I’m pushing too hard and I need to make changes. Experiencing my limits this time is going to help me make better decisions in the stressful situations ahead.
· I’m renewed in my determination to share what I learn with others.
Extractor #8 is “How am I kinder, wiser, more compassionate, more patient, or stronger because of this experience?” The last 6 weeks kicked my butt and showed me my limits. I’m a bit kinder and more compassionate toward myself because of everything I’ve experienced. I feel wiser. If I’ve done a good job, you do, too.
What do your default settings look like? Which stressors get you to that place? How do those experiences help you become kinder, wiser, more compassionate, or stronger?
Here we grow!
Rachel
