Listen to your heart

Not only is it an iconic song, it is also something I need to do more of.

Turning 33 and always seemed like an important but distant milestone. Growing up, we were constantly told how Jesus died for our sins at the age of 33, and it seemed like so many people died too soon at that age, but maybe it was because I was so focused on that age. My husband’s brother, also sadly died at 33 of heart failure.

Now, I am not putting myself up there in the league of Jesus or Ted’s brother, but I am giving you some insight into my anxious mind. All I know is 33 always stood out in my brain, and I was worried about reaching this age.

I turn 34 this month, and I am fairly certain I will make it to 34, but not without scaring the crap out of myself while I was 33.

I worked myself hard this year, emotionally, physically, in every way possible. I have a beautiful, strong-willed, two-year-old son who has tested my limits since he was born. I managed to escape the grasps of post-partum depression this year (having more sleep definitely helped) but he has managed to present new ways to test every limit of my sanity, which was super fun while I was trying to work a couple of jobs all at once.

Early last year, I also started a new job at the Yale School of the Environment as the features editor of their climate change newsroom, Yale Climate Connections. I am in charge of growing the Spanish language division of their work, which is rewarding, but extremely taxing at times when we were covering daily disasters that were supercharged by primarily “1st world” fuel consumption. On top of that, having to deal with the social media trolls that feel the need to attack our reporting, as they sit comfortably on their couch, in their climate-controlled homes.

And then there was just trying to be a human being and create a support system around me, something that fell apart during the height of the pandemic and never really came back together. I wanted those deeper connections around me, I wanted more support outside of my husband, but they just weren’t coming together as I wanted. It’s not fair to rely on your partner for every emotional need, but that’s what I was doing.

Trying to balance it all wore me down, and in December, I started to get heart palpitations that made me think that I was dying or having a panic attack, or maybe both.

Nothing like the holidays to tip you over the edge.

I went to my PCP last week, rather convinced that it was more mental than physical, but when they hooked me up for an EKG, the monitor found an irregular heartbeat. An extra firing of electricity that didn’t need to be there. That seemed to sum up nicely what I had been feeling for the past year or so.

I quickly dissolved into a pool of self pity, but it also felt OK too. I couldn’t sustain what I was trying to be, and I deserved to fall to the ground for a bit. I also felt so silly that I had allowed myself to potentially cause irreversable damage my health, and for what? Work? To make people happy? To gain acceptance? To prove I can do everything?

What had I been trying to prove and to whom? Myself? Society? Family? I know I thought that if I could be as close to perfect as possible, and then maybe that inner critic would be silent, but that never happened.

Luckily, after an ultrasound on my heart and wearing a holter monitor for 48-hours, it seems that my extra beats are within normal range for now, but the lesson remains that I need to slow it down. I can’t make people love me or understand me the way I want them to, unless they themselves want to do so. I can’t make people on social media understand that climate change is not a hoax, or sensationalized. I can’t make my son behave all the time. I can’t make my body be perfect after all the work it has done since my son started growing inside me.

As women, we are told that we can “have it all” but it is such a lie. You can’t be everything to everyone all at once, especially when this society doesn’t give you the basic support you need

So moving forward, I am going to do my best to not try so hard. It will be hard because I think one of my best qualities is that I care so much about what I do and who I love. But when those things start to affect your health, it doesn’t leave you many choices. Life is inherently messy and uncontrollable and learning to live with that is the hard, but very essential lesson, I guess.

My heart literally can’t hold it all together anymore. I thank it for giving me some fairly minor warnings instead of something more final.

It has been yet another great lesson in how connected the mental and physical state are, and I know that I am not the only one out here struggling with trying to balance it all. If you are, I am here and willing to listen, even when your family and friends might not be.