My sister posts stuff from Navy Seals on a regular basis. Today was a nice reminder to me.
Life is supposed to be hard from the time you abruptly come into the world until the time you slide in sideways to the end of the line!
If it is not uncomfortable, if you aren’t stressed, then you aren’t really living, you are dying.
If you feel like you cannot go one more step you are alive. If you don’t feel the need to take one more step, you are dying.
I have seen more people since I retired from the SEALs avoid pain at the expense of really living and not take one more step to the benefit of getting to the next level than I had seen in all my years in the teams. Everyone is so afraid to fail. Fear is crushing. There is always one more step.
You are Unbreakable. Keep after it.
I was raised by a mother that studied Hans Selye’s work on stress. From her reading she concluded stress was bad. Her goal was to have no stress in her life. Of course, her children stressed her out; therefore, it was our fault she was miserable. She finally reached in her own mind, “I’m stress free.” I learned two things, she lies and what a wasted life.
I don’t enjoy being flooded with stress that is not ok….but I accept and embrace the stress in my life as evidence that I am alive. I spent almost 3 years unable to be up more than 20 minutes a day. I called it a half life. I dragged my body through day after day of barely existing. I look back and realized I had a complete mental/emotional break down and was too ignorant to know what it was so I kept plodding forward. I started then to take back my life. I did my own research. I prayed. I studied some more. Experimented with different diets, routines, and exercise. Failed many times. Finally sought professional counseling and this gave me direction. I worked; I worked hard for 10 years with 3 different counselors. I am not free of stress. I am not free of PTSD symptoms. I am living and loving it. Sometimes life get really hard again. This past 3 months I worked as a part time sub along with my regular job. I worked myself until I literally couldn’t move any more. One night DH came home asked me what’s for dinner. Told him that he could have anything he wanted to get. He then questioned what was I going to eat. “Anything you are willing to get me.”
He paused, looked at me slightly slumped on the couch and observed, “You can’t move, can you?” Nope.
One lady told me on one such occasion, “I wish I could sit down and relax like that.” I stared at her like she had two heads. I wanted to scream at her, “I wasn’t given a choice.”
I also learned that things end. School is out for summer and within one weekend I am already feeling ready to clean up and catch up on everything I ignored for the last 3 months.