It was my birthday. I was turning 28 and should've been ecstatic. Instead, I found myself hollow, empty, and frazzled. High-functioning anxiety had taken over my life, and though I was outwardly functioning, I was inwardly drowning.
I'd been up since five—taking Tirosint every other day for an underactive thyroid will do that to you. I'd run the day before. Something I hadn't done in months but felt the energy to. I was now regretting my decision, paying the overextended hours, and taking my losses.
Rolling off the bed and onto the floor, I shut off the alarm, but in my mind, things were still buzzing. Task lists were like racing horses being gambling by my sanity. Which would I do first? Which would I bet not to? But instead of soaking in the day one breath at a time, I rushed it. I checked items off my list as fast as I could. Productivity and multitasking have always been my top skills.
Before work, I finished a test to become certified in Barre and Pilates, which was something my husband had encouraged me to do as a side income when I transitioned to writing full-time. I had already watched four hours of training the day before, and eight hours the day before that.
I then proceeded to respond to half a dozen messages, audio texts, marco polo videos, and phone calls that populated overnight... all before my "work day" began at 7:30 a.m. I had even responded to emails, made copies at work, and scarfed down half of my breakfast.
That day, teaching high school English was rough. I'd exhausted myself before my true work began, but I was determined to give it my all. After working with 160 students 1-1 for persuasive essays, navigating The Glass Castle worksheets, and having a student mouth off to me, I was defeated. My drive home was foggy, and so were my conversations that evening. I somehow even managed to work out before a birthday massage (that had already been rescheduled twice before that evening).
Laying on the warm towels beneath me, my heart raced. I prayed. I tried to relax. I tried to enjoy the massage. And I did. But I also struggled. I realized my "special day," was over, and I'd spent it as a slave to productivity, chores, tasks, and things that didn't matter. I wished I'd spent it differently. Slowing down. Focusing on what really matters.
I wish I could overcome the cost of productivity, being addicted to being busy. Maybe you've spent too many days like this, too?
I wish I could tell you that when I've prayed for God to help me, He instantly took away my anxious desire to be busy and productive all living hours, but He hasn't. And though I'm still waiting, praying, and believing in a miracle—for this, and a lot of other physical and mental health struggles—I want you to be encouraged by this: you are not your productivity. And God sees you within the struggle.
This struggle is real, hard, ugly, and rooted in lies. Meanwhile, I've buried the truth deep down and chosen to believe that I need to be productive to be worthy. That somehow what I do is tied to who I am or what I'm worth.
But nothing could be further from the truth.
As much as God wants me to be a hard worker, He doesn't want me to be a slave to it. He wants me to eat, drink, and be merry, for my days are limited (Ecclesiastes 8:15). He wants me to help others get saved, and focus on His mission and agenda for my life, and not necessarily my own (Luke 22:42). He wants me to live life, not be a slave to the things of this world (even when those things are still good) (Romans 12:2, 1 Thessalonians 4:5). As Aundi Kolber notes, sometimes the most holy thing we can do is rest, and that's a lesson I'm attempting to believe and integrate day by day.
I haven't quite figured out why I'm writing this yet. Maybe it's because I'm hoping someone can relate. Or maybe it's because the first step in healing a problem is admitting that you have one. And trust me, I'm not afraid to admit that I'm struggling with this because I am. I'm not asking for advice or sympathy; I'm asking others to see that I'm trying to make a change. See that I'm working on it. But see and understand that like all changes, this, too, will take time.
From the outside looking in, productivity and busyness are praised. Society gloats over successes, checked lists, and accomplished goals. The number of compliments I've received for getting things done or doing 101 things piles to the sky. But is it worth my sanity? My mental and physical health? My mind? It never is, and yet somehow, I always fall to its praises.
Taking breaks is hard for me, but I've got to start taking them. Resting is not a favorite pastime of mine, but it needs to be. Meditation is something I'm not fond of, but research shows the benefits are astounding. I've never been good at listening, but I want to be. Doing less and being more is a goal I've asked the Lord to help me achieve this year, but I feel as if I've failed over and over again.
Yet, the sun continues to rise. New mercies are birthed every day. God looks down upon me, not asking me to do or be more but embracing who I am and what He's called me to do right where I'm at, fully knowing I've made mistakes and will continue to make them. Fully loving me all the same. Fully helping me all the same.
And He is with me all the same.
Slowing down and being present scares me, but it's a fear I need to willingly embrace so I don't miss out on life.
Living. Breathing. Existing. Noticing what's right in front of me, what matters, and what is truly there.
Will you join me?
Agape, Amber
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