A few months ago I wrote this post. Amongst several unfinished, handwritten entries, this one fell through the cracks so I am bringing it back now.

Back in early February, I reached an unfamiliar point. I woke up on a Thursday morning, utterly drained, emerging from a dream, a nightmare, that left me worse off than if I had avoided that night’s sleep entirely. While I have woken to fleeting memories of strange, sometimes mildly disconcerting dreams before, I have never experienced something on this level before.

Even if I could remember the dream, details of which began to fade almost immediately, I would not recount it here. Apart from the random proliferation of baguettes, the dream centered on a deeply personal family relationship, not an immediate family member, in which I have stood on the receiving end of defensive blame avoidance turned into judgment about my character. The dream brought out the worst of this and left me in tears, in the the dream, although it would not surprise me to discover that I had cried while sleeping.

When I woke up, I lay in bed after watching trying to figure out what had just happened and how I could possibly recover. The day ahead stretched long in front of me full from top to bottom thanks to my normal workload as well as my grad class. I could not fathom how I would make it through, already feeling exhausted. As I lay there, I thought about calling in sick and resting, taking time to recover. Old me would have dismissed the thought and pushed through, overdrawing my energy account. The me I am now knows that I have limits to my strength and chose to call in sick, not feeling well enough to work.

After I set up the assignments and sub job, I rolled onto my side and slept for several more hours. Once I finally emerged from sleep, I felt a huge wave of relief wash over me. I took the day to rest, to fully recover, able to breathe deeply for the first time in a long time.

As I finished this entry weeks ago, I saw clearly that the respite did not prove a permanent solution. I knew it would not. My days continued to fill beyond the capacity of its 24 hour limits. This one day provided relief in the moment, relief that I desperately needed or I would have already drowned. At that moment, although I did not know how to solve the problem, I learned my limits and respected them.