Garden of stone

Something occurred to me today. Something that should have been blatantly obvious quite some time ago if I would've pulled my head out sooner. But that darn control freak, over-achiever, "good girl", perfectionist, self-proclaimed martyr in me has slowly, relentlessly overtaken every aspect of my life. Like a poisonous weed whose roots have ruthlessly penetrated the fertile garden of my mind.

But, you know what? 

I can't do it all myself.

As much as I may want to, need to, feel as if I should. (Don't ask me why I have this compulsion because I'm not ready to face any those demons quite yet). 

It actually feels a bit liberating to finally admit this. I realize it's OKAY to let go sometimes. Delegation is key. My mental health is more important - maybe the most important thing for me to concentrate on right now. I can't please everyone all the time. I can't take on more projects, tasks, commitments. And, do you know why?

I can't do it all myself. 

Finally, after months, I feel like I can breath without hyperventilating. My head isn't spinning out of control worrying about all the plates I have to juggle. I'm not paralyzed with fear and distress; mentally ready to explode into a million pieces.

One more time for good measure.

I. Can't. Do. It. All. Myself.

I need help. And, that's okay too. As much as it frightens me to write this, I know I need to ask for help. Because if I don't...well, if I don't...then I haven't learned anything from this realization. I'll be back to square one, and well on my way back to the frightening chasm between sanity and the cruel alternative.

The weeds would have won.