I used to identify as an addict. Part of that identity was based on self-pity but a large portion was due to how easily I can become codependent on anything. It could be a romantic partner, a video game, television series, or a psychedelic plant – I can find myself hooked.
The worst part of sobriety is not realizing how codependent I became until my crutch was gone.
This summer is the first time I’d be without both of my sacral-defined children for an extended period of time. Ironically, I thought I would get more done without daily debates about mac and cheese versus chicken nuggets for lunch.
The outline of my book, set to be market ready by 2022, would finally get fleshed out. I might even have time for the gym, hiking, and swimming.
The moment my children stepped out of my car and entered their father’s car, I dozed off in the passenger’s seat. I slept for the full three-hour drive home.
Prior to Human Design, I’d blame my sudden onset of exhaustion on the summer blues. I mean, it’s not that far-fetched for a mother to feel depressed after giving up her children for the summer.
I pulled up the book outline several times. My brain wouldn’t work.
I tried distracting myself by repotting my plants. My arms felt like bricks.
I planned to grill a few burger patties on the panini maker. I ordered pizza, instead.
The whole ordeal became hilarious when I remembered that the battery pack I brag about was never a part of my design. Of course I was able to get a lot of work done in the past eighteen months while my two defined sacral sons were trapped within six feet of me during a lockdown. They were constantly conditioning my open sacral, lending me the buzz of their energy.
I went through the same narratives as when I stopped using other substances. “I don’t know how to function without it. I need it. Perhaps I can find some sort of replacement.”
The first week, I stuffed chai into my reusable Keurig cup and tried to sustain myself through light bursts of caffeine. Falling asleep became nearly impossible, as my jittery body battled with my internal exhaustion. I tried delegating more to my team. I even shortened my workday and cut Fridays out of my schedule.
My mind said, “You need to prove something – so work even harder to push past the exhaustion.” My body said, “You’re not designed for this.” (How lucky am I to live in a time where I can read my bodygraph).
I finally feel like I’m at peace with the lack of sacral conditioning, just in time for my weekend with the kids. I’m slowly writing a few pages at a time. I’m under-committing and giving vague answers about whether I can show up to a social event. “I’m not sure…” and “I’ll have to see how I feel…” have become staples in my responses.
A significant source of human unhappiness lies in our attempts to change a quality that is defined.
Peter Schoeber, Human Design System – The Centres