I often find myself lacking motivation. I never used to be this way. I was always motivated to go to the gym, go on a run, take a bus out of town to the woods, walk to see my friends, go to the pub and get up for college and work.
You see what I used to be motivated to achieve? It’s funny, it’s as if all the things I used to love and can no longer do, we’re the reason for my day; my purpose and passions. So I guess it’s no wonder I no longer have any drive or motivation. How can I get ready for a day I no longer look forward too?
Some will say to find a new purpose. Maybe I should but it’s a sour point when literally everything you lived and worked for no longer exists in your world. I mean, it’s not like losing a job. I can’t just get a new one and problem solved. I’ve lost my job, hobbies, friends, education and health. I’ve lost it all.
Am I unhappy? No and yes. I mean it’s hard not to be miserable and angry when I look at everything this illness took from me these past two years. But I do acknowledge I could be worse off and I am often remind that others have it worse than me, like that’s the cure and suddenly I will be 100% ok with going from a fitness professional, to a disabled person in her early thirties on a mobility scooter. But you never really become 100% ok with that loss.
It’s like when someone dies. We are told time heals all wounds but we all know wounds leave scars and you never really forget about that person. Sometimes you think of them and it makes you sad and other times you smile at the fond memories. All that is socially acceptable. So why is it so hard to believe that somedays I cry because I miss the girl I used to be? Why is it unthinkable for me to recall good times as that girl? Why is my loss selfish and the loss of a loved one an entitlement?
Have you lost someone you love? Maybe you are old and miss your youth. Perhaps you miss certain parts of another person, before they were ravaged by addiction or consumed by their job.
All of us lose things and people and all of us react differently. Stop telling people how to grieve.