I’m juggling three balls. The first ball represents my study. The second ball stands for therapy, and the third ball stands for myself. I try to keep all three balls in the air without dropping them. That is not easy.
The first ball: study
The first ball represents my study. In September of this year I started studying the master of my dreams. I knew it would be a tough study. It is especially a lot. I don’t find it annoying at all, because the study fascinates me, but it takes energy. I juggle three balls, so I have to divide my energy and focus between those three balls. So far I have just managed. But the last week I notice that juggling is taking its toll. The alarm bells sounded. That is a sign for me to take measures before I collapse under the deadlines. This week I took a step by informing someone at the university. For now that’s enough. It is a precautionary measure.
The second ball: therapy
The second ball stands for therapy. This ball is slightly larger than the ball that my study represents. The ball is also slightly heavier, because the currently therapy is heavy. I’m moving to the core, and with that, to the pain. That is not easy. My head tells my body that it is ready, but my body contradicts my head. My body does everything it can to avoid having pain by dissociation, muscle tension or abdominal pain. This means that I have to work even harder and actually have to fight against my own body. But I want to go for it. I want to get rid of my demons. I want to get rid of the blanket called depression.
The third ball: myself
The third, and last ball, stands for my self. This ball is perhaps even larger and heavier than the “therapy ball.” It takes a lot of energy, focus and control to keep myself afloat. I realize that it is not nothing I am currently doing: and study and therapy and try to function somewhat normal. Sometimes I think to myself, why am I doing this? Why do I ask so much of myself? But that’s how I am. Don’t nag, just keep going. Even though that is sometimes at the expense of myself. When my arms start to hurt and barely keep the balls up, I want to give up deep in my heart and let the balls fall. But if the largest ball falls to the ground, then the other two balls actually no longer have a role either. The third ball makes the difference. To keep the third ball, myself, up, I turned to a tool. I recently started taking antidepressants again. It turned out to be too heavy without it. I do not see restarting antidepressants as a failure, but more as a helping hand.
And so I go through life juggling. One day it feels like the balls can fall to the ground at any moment, and the next day it all goes just fine.