Don't Stop, Don't Quit, Don't Give Up
Have you ever realized you’ve become a shadow of yourself? That was me; just a couple days ago. I’m not one to write novels about my emotional breakdowns but, whatever. Sometimes, there’s no other way to do it. For too long, I was abnormally down, sad, stressed, frustrated, bitter… you name it. Not all the time, but I definitely had a cloud over me. Professionally, personally: In every way I felt way off my game. And I hated it. I hated a lot. I felt broken, like my heart was in two pieces inside of my chest. More than anything else, I was afraid. Fearful. I don’t know exactly when it started, or why. Feeling out of control, watching the ways of the world and seeing the anger between people, beaten down by lingering UC symptoms, worried about everything, etc. I felt backed into a corner, and a bit hopeless. Not at all the girl who typically clings to hope and silver linings.
A few days ago, it all came to a head and I cracked (hard). I cried, like a devastated child cries when they lose their favorite toy. I cried a lot: Watching favorite movies and The Office, listening to perfectly energetic Queen songs in the car, trying to read my Logic X music manual, etc. Even my supportive and loving hubby couldn’t console me, and I felt terrible about that. What was Diane Keaton’s line in Something’s Gotta Give, about crying? “It’s my new thing. I’ve gotten abnormally brilliant at it.” At first, I thought this was entirely because of the pressures of work. I mean, that’s what cracked me. But, it was so much bigger than that. It was fear. Of everything. Of failure. My biggest fear has always been failure. And as I thought about my job and my music and my running and everything, all I could think was… have I really, truly done anything that’s worth… anything? What am I doing with my life?!
Yesterday afternoon, after spending some much-needed quality time decompressing with a wonderful friend, I began to think about this irrational fear. Not in the same overwhelming everything-at-once way I tend to do when I’m in the depths, but in a way that helped me understand myself, my thought process, and my heart. I thought a lot, and I prayed. And a peace I hadn’t felt for a very long time crept up on me. This morning, before doing anything else (even before coffee), I made a list of everything I’ve accomplished, and the crazy-cool blessings I’ve had in my life. Yes: I was creating a list of encouragement for myself. Because we all forget how far we’ve come. We all forget what we’ve done to get here and there are moments we need to step back, assess, and only then can we say with absolute certainty… I am not a failure. I am capable. I made all of this happen because I do not stop, I do not quit, I do not give up.
Before I knew it, I had 40 things on that list: Major milestones in my music career, professional accomplishments, crushed running goals, and victories against my autoimmune disease. In the bigness of the world, they may not mean much. To me? They are everything. Every single checkmark on the goals of life means everything. And they remind me that every good thing, from the sharing of music and collaborations and opportunities to the running of half-marathons, is a gift, and God carried me through every one of those things. There is no other explanation for the peace, hope, and feeling of readiness and newness that suddenly replaced my fear in less than a day. I have to believe my prayer was answered. I once wrote a very autobiographical lyric, “…and then I remember every time I turn my back, I’m missing out on something awesome that will never come again.” I’d forgotten about it. But I remember now, and I won’t run away. There’s so much more to learn, to teach, and to do.
So go. Right now, do it. I want you to make your own list of everything you’ve done and the awesome things that have happened in your life because you kept going. This is not a “rah-rah, I’m so perfect” kind of thing (because none of us will ever reach that goal). This is a “keep going, look at what you’ve already done!” thing. This is a “don’t give up, ever” thing. This is a “you can still imperfectly rock this world” thing. Every day, you’re doing more, learning more, being more. And that matters. You matter. Every hair on your head is accounted for. End novel.
The last thing I wrote, at the bottom of My List:
I am resilient. I do not quit. I don’t give up. I face my fears. I keep going. I have more to do. I have more to learn, and to teach, and to be. I have more to share. I have more to conquer. There is more to create. There is music to sing. And my voice is the only one I have. God is my strength. He carries me. When I was sick and could barely run, He ran with me. When I was afraid and I worried, He took my fear. I have always been blessed with safety, strength, opportunity, support and the chance to become a better person. A wiser person. A more loving person. A more compassionate person. A stronger person. Far be it from me to refuse the opportunity. Any opportunity.
“Storm the master-marathon, I’ll fly through. By flash and thunder-fire, I’ll survive. Then I’ll defy the laws of nature and come out alive.” - Queen
A few days ago, it all came to a head and I cracked (hard). I cried, like a devastated child cries when they lose their favorite toy. I cried a lot: Watching favorite movies and The Office, listening to perfectly energetic Queen songs in the car, trying to read my Logic X music manual, etc. Even my supportive and loving hubby couldn’t console me, and I felt terrible about that. What was Diane Keaton’s line in Something’s Gotta Give, about crying? “It’s my new thing. I’ve gotten abnormally brilliant at it.” At first, I thought this was entirely because of the pressures of work. I mean, that’s what cracked me. But, it was so much bigger than that. It was fear. Of everything. Of failure. My biggest fear has always been failure. And as I thought about my job and my music and my running and everything, all I could think was… have I really, truly done anything that’s worth… anything? What am I doing with my life?!
Yesterday afternoon, after spending some much-needed quality time decompressing with a wonderful friend, I began to think about this irrational fear. Not in the same overwhelming everything-at-once way I tend to do when I’m in the depths, but in a way that helped me understand myself, my thought process, and my heart. I thought a lot, and I prayed. And a peace I hadn’t felt for a very long time crept up on me. This morning, before doing anything else (even before coffee), I made a list of everything I’ve accomplished, and the crazy-cool blessings I’ve had in my life. Yes: I was creating a list of encouragement for myself. Because we all forget how far we’ve come. We all forget what we’ve done to get here and there are moments we need to step back, assess, and only then can we say with absolute certainty… I am not a failure. I am capable. I made all of this happen because I do not stop, I do not quit, I do not give up.
Before I knew it, I had 40 things on that list: Major milestones in my music career, professional accomplishments, crushed running goals, and victories against my autoimmune disease. In the bigness of the world, they may not mean much. To me? They are everything. Every single checkmark on the goals of life means everything. And they remind me that every good thing, from the sharing of music and collaborations and opportunities to the running of half-marathons, is a gift, and God carried me through every one of those things. There is no other explanation for the peace, hope, and feeling of readiness and newness that suddenly replaced my fear in less than a day. I have to believe my prayer was answered. I once wrote a very autobiographical lyric, “…and then I remember every time I turn my back, I’m missing out on something awesome that will never come again.” I’d forgotten about it. But I remember now, and I won’t run away. There’s so much more to learn, to teach, and to do.
So go. Right now, do it. I want you to make your own list of everything you’ve done and the awesome things that have happened in your life because you kept going. This is not a “rah-rah, I’m so perfect” kind of thing (because none of us will ever reach that goal). This is a “keep going, look at what you’ve already done!” thing. This is a “don’t give up, ever” thing. This is a “you can still imperfectly rock this world” thing. Every day, you’re doing more, learning more, being more. And that matters. You matter. Every hair on your head is accounted for. End novel.
The last thing I wrote, at the bottom of My List:
I am resilient. I do not quit. I don’t give up. I face my fears. I keep going. I have more to do. I have more to learn, and to teach, and to be. I have more to share. I have more to conquer. There is more to create. There is music to sing. And my voice is the only one I have. God is my strength. He carries me. When I was sick and could barely run, He ran with me. When I was afraid and I worried, He took my fear. I have always been blessed with safety, strength, opportunity, support and the chance to become a better person. A wiser person. A more loving person. A more compassionate person. A stronger person. Far be it from me to refuse the opportunity. Any opportunity.
“Storm the master-marathon, I’ll fly through. By flash and thunder-fire, I’ll survive. Then I’ll defy the laws of nature and come out alive.” - Queen
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