One would assume that when you are at your best, you make the best decisions. I’m finding this is unfortunately not true for me. Oh how I wish it were! In the same way you shouldn’t make decisions when you are at your worst, when I am at my best there are always unforeseen consequences. I must find the in between – the pause in the extremes. It is then that I truly make the best decisions that my best self can follow through on and my worst self can weather.
When at my best, I feel I can take on anything with clarity, energy, and intense focus. I assume when at my best that I will feel this way indefinitely like a stupid teenager who feels invincible. This “best” never lasts – I don’t know why I ever expect it to. As I become more aware of myself, I’m getting more in tune with when I’m in between my best and worst. My worst self is the anxious, depressed, and full of self doubt version that rears its head. To be clear, I love my worst self. She’s taught me so much. I say “worst” lovingly and nearly ironically. I’ve wrestled with being at the end of myself in the worst headspace enough times that it actually feels more daunting to hold back my best version. I find my best self more difficult to handle, to talk down, and to accommodate. I find my best self to almost be more annoying – “God why did you sign us up for this shit again?!” Sigh. How do I tell her “no” when she is so excited and so full of life? How do I remind her to be considerate to the worst version of myself when she feels so good? My worst version sticks around much longer than my best so it feels even worse to attempt to taper this part of myself. I know I must though. My worst self might not feel so bad for so long if I do. My worst self is so much more considerate – she holds on so damn patiently for so long for my best self to return. It amazes me each time she does.
Recently, I made the decision to nomad again for a full 6 or so months starting in March. I wrestled with this decision for a very long time – not trusting either extreme version of myself. My best self would skip along planning trips on top of trips on top of trips while my worst self would grumble awake fumbling for her keys. I waited patiently to wear myself out. I am hoping I waited for the right time. I am hoping I’m getting better at reading myself. Time will tell!