Edges

I learned something about myself the other day. Not in time to prevent a meltdown happening (mine!!) but maybe the next one. The weather hadn’t been quite what we had hoped, camping right on the beach at a beautiful spot, it was twenty-one degrees and windy the whole week. We made the most of it, still spending time on the beach, climbing rocks, kayaking etc. I went for solo walks, read on the shore and got my feet in the sand as much as possible.

Since I had been sleeping well and doing a lot of these things that usually fill my cup I thought I was alright. I didn’t realise that there had been very little filling actually happening. My self-care had been battling silently, pushing ‘you know what’ up a hill. Something had been using up so many spoons and bringing me up to my edges, so there was little room for anything else, without me being aware of it. (You can read about spoon theory here, I find it’s a great way to conceptualise being highly sensitive as well as chronic disease https://www.healthline.com/health/spoon-theory-chronic-illness-explained-like-never-before#1)

We took the kids to an indoor Ninja play center to break up the week and when they nagged, whinged and complained the whole time I went over my edge. Their frustration built in me and I didn’t have enough room to be able to hold it for them. It built on top of my invisible, already bubbling energy and turned to anger as it often does when I don’t keep check of it. It spilled over and I very unconsciously gave it back to them. I discharged the uncomfortable energy that had been building and building as I ignored it and topped myself up with caffeine and sugar. I lost control of my energy because I had lost track of what had been draining it and where my boundaries were at. When we got home I took myself straight to bed, pulled the covers over my head and lay there, unable to move for a couple of hours. I was awake, I could hear what was going on but my body was stuck still.

As I lay there it came to me. The wind, the cold. The constant sensation of the wind on my skin, in my face, pushing against me as I walked, the sound in my ears, the cold in my bones. I hadn’t allowed for how much it was taking out of me. I hadn’t realised how it had slowly, over four days brought me to my edge. When my feet had been in the sand the wind had been there. During my silent walks up the beach, it had been there. While I meditated, read my book, climbed the dunes. As each of these things filled my cup, the sound and sensation of the wind was emptying it. As a new spoon started to appear the other end was disappearing at the same rate. My usual self-care hadn’t been cutting it and as my edges grew closer my awareness grew cloudy…until I was over the edge. Until I had no choice but to completely stop, close out the sound, sensation, everything, in order to recharge.

It may sound silly or an overreaction. I mean really? A little bit of wind? But it’s always something seemingly small, insignificant, silly. Seams in socks, tags on clothes, wet ears, hairbrushes on scalps, buzzing appliances or crowds, flashing lights, nagging voices, showers. These things bring our children to their edges and whether it seems silly or not it feels awful. I’m telling you it feels really awful and whether it seems insignificant or not, when it is missed or misunderstood, it will take them over their edge.

For the rest of our time at the beach I kept a hoodie with me and I was able to manage the effect of the wind on my nervous system and my energy. Simple, once I understood what was happening, once I found a tool I could use. Please listen to your Little Wildflowers when they act out or play up, look around for what is behind the behaviour. Whatever the culprit is, I bet that they are behaving the way they are because they are feeling awful and what they need is to understand why and find a tool to help them manage it.