I had a dreadful day yesterday.
I decided to get up at 4am after a couple of hours sleep to write my column. I do this a lot. Mainly because I got into a terrible habit of getting up through the night to write a book last year.
There was no hope of me getting back to sleep afterwards. By 10am I felt awful.
I did what I told myself I had to do during the day. Despite the fact that I didn’t. The world would not have stopped turning if I’d put them off for a day.
I didn’t eat or drink. I wore the wrong clothes for the boiling hot weather. I walked for miles when I really didn’t need to.
I ended up back home in tears by the afternoon. So useless I didn’t get a thing done for the rest of the day.
By 8pm I was sent to bed by one who knows me far better than I know myself.
I’d spent the evening alternating between tears and laying on the coach. I kept saying to my partner “I just don’t like myself today. I cannot love myself today”.
Everything felt so sad and so bleak.
Everything I did or said or felt just made it all a bit worse.
This morning, after an epic sleep, the world seemed in technicolor once more.
It wasn’t back to how it had been before my bad day. It was a lot better.
Better because I now had a brand new, solid blueprint on how not to conduct a day.
Improved because I knew that to do the polar opposite of what I had done yesterday was guaranteed to bring me a day of success.
Happier because this day of pitfalls gave me so many extra weapons in my arsenal of wellbeing.
This is what I mean when I say that there are no mistakes in this journey of recovery. Because every pitfall brings with it a blue print on how not to conduct ourselves.
Because it’s the most common mistake we make, really. To punish and berate ourselves for the less than perfect days. To use our so-called f*ck-up’s as an excuse to continue on our downward spiral.
When it’s simply not the case. We need the imperfections. We need the f*ck-up’s. I needed yesterday to happen.
So. I know better now. I know to sleep. To eat.
To listen to the people that love me.
The bad days aren’t just important. They are vital. They are the most powerful teachers that exist.
They are a form of bulletproofing ourselves from the inside out.
And we get to have as many of them as it takes to learn what we need.
And then we need never have them again.