Quitting Everything all the Time

I hadn’t realized just how long it has been since I last blogged. This is a prime example of my lack of commitment and follow-thru. I recently, by recent, I mean yesterday, finished a book called 5 Habits of a Woman Who Doesn’t Quit by Nicki Koziarz and I can honestly say it was an inspiring book for those who quit everything. That’s me. I start loads of projects and then gradually I fade away from them with a range of excuses, some legitimate, some skirting lies. My illness is a big reason I can’t seem to maintain momentum. Since I last wrote, I’ve had 2 strokes, which wear me out and each time my brain feels just a little more sluggish. So I set aside my personal goals of maintaining my blogs and my other writing projects. I have a great group of students who have all manifested extreme patience with me when it comes to getting their grades in, which when you have over 200 students it takes a while to get everyone’s needs met. So here I am blogging with a fuzzy wuzzy brain contemplating why I quit.

My quitting tendency has is a pre-illness habit. Looking back into my childhood, I quit (or rather got kicked out of) ballet, Girl Scouts, Band, Ice Skating, Soccer, and as a young adult I quit the theater, which I had a great deal of professional success in. I quit my first marriage and I’ve quit a lot of personal relationships. Oh and of course I’ve quit diets and exercise routines. And as soon as someone encourages me in something I’m working on, I quit. Nicki Koziarz’s book got me thinking about these events and all the excuses I have, which always come down to “I’m too tired”; something she actually explores.

“I’m too tired.” I get tired easily, physically and emotionally. And I think spiritually. After I start things I hit a point where some part of me just poops out. On one hand this may be because I’ve had Systemic Lupus and a host of related autoimmune diseases since I was a child, but on the other hand there’s a psychological and spiritual component. Psychologically, I start to feel anxious as projects near ending or people’s needs become greater—I’m certain that I will fail. So I quit. If I’m checked out then nothing fails because of me; things just come to a glaring stop. My anxiety is what really tires me out. I never realized how bad it was until recently where I’m popping Ativan like candy just so I can have a conversation. Something has to give.

One of the things I love about Nicki’s book is she uses the Book of Ruth from the Bible as her example of a woman who doesn’t quit. This is my favorite book in the Bible precisely because of that. Ruth doesn’t quit. She doesn’t let poverty (something I live with daily) stop her from meeting her needs. She doesn’t let her role as a stranger in a strange land stop her. And she engages in back-breaking work—no physical tiredness stops her. And through her dedication, she finds herself married and cared for and being the mother of the lineage of both King David and Jesus. Wow a pretty powerful woman. Nicki goes through this story with a fine-toothed comb looking at just how Ruth did what she did; what her skills were that allowed her to keep going even when it’s hard.

So here I am staring down my quit-self. I get physically tired from my Lupus—that means what I can do has to be done in a few hours with rest built in. Not an excuse to quit; I just have to manage my energy levels better. Years ago I read a psychology clinical manual on coping with autoimmune diseases and they advised patients to “live within the envelope”. In other words, you have a defined amount of energy and you have to use it wisely. Not quit.

Then of course comes my psychological self, which is really what gets me running the opposite direction to hide in my house. I avoid. I avoid phone calls. I avoid my computer. I avoid text messages. I avoid avoid avoid. Clearly something is going on with this and I’m not quite sure what it is. I just know the closer I get to projects and people, the faster my feet move in the opposite direction. I could say that it goes back to early childhood when I was kicked out of ballet. It was a traumatic experience. I was 5 and all my teacher could tell me was how wrong I was with every step I took. Finally I acted out and out I went. But this seems like a shallow excuse. I could say the abuse I suffered as a child, both physical and sexual, played a role, but even this seems to not fit. So why do I psychologically quit? I just don’t know. I have to think more on this.

Nicki’s book has a spiritual component, which is an area of my life I’ve quit, but have now returned to. And I wonder if this isn’t part of the reason I’ve quit. While atheism is on the rise, and I was an atheist for a number of years (20), spirituality does play a big role in maintaining psychological health and well-being. There’s no specific evidence that any one religion plays a role, but the research suggests we need a spiritual framework to feel good in our lives. As I confronted my lack of spirituality, I’ve wondered very seriously if this hasn’t played a role in my quitting. I’ve lived with a sense of what’s the point to anything. I just need to do what I want when I want—there’s nothing at stake in the process. As long as I’m happy most of the time that’s all that matters. But when spirituality enters into the conversation, there are consequences to living my life in this self-focused way. Suddenly there is an expectation of engaging compassionately toward others and to follow-thru on our spiritual fruits we were given. But in this expectation, we are not alone in our follow thru. We have some higher power that supports us. I’m reminded of Kari Jobe’s song, “I Am Not Alone”:

I am not alone
You will go before me
You will never leave me
I am not alone

So the question of the day is: Can I develop sticking-to-itness if I live within my physical envelope, manage my anxiety, and continue to strengthen my spirituality? I think I can. Or at least start the process (see I gave myself an out, ugh).