The Blog About Being Off
August is almost over.
And honestly, I don’t have a particularly profound reason for this month’s blog being late. I just haven’t felt very good.
Not in some dramatic, life-changing way.
Just… off.
And I’ve been thinking about how difficult it can be to explain what “off” actually means.
Because sometimes your body doesn’t feel good.
Sometimes your mind doesn’t feel good.
Sometimes both happen at the same time.
And sometimes they get confused for each other by everyone—including you.
There’s a strange expectation that if you look okay, you must be okay.
If you’re still talking, still answering messages, still getting things done, still making jokes, still showing up, then surely nothing is really wrong.
But feeling bad doesn’t always announce itself.
Sometimes it just makes everything harder.
Sometimes you are tired because you are physically tired.
Sometimes you are tired because you are mentally tired.
Sometimes you genuinely don’t know which one it is.
And I think that uncertainty can be frustrating.
Especially when someone else has already decided what they think is happening.
That part has been on my mind a lot lately.
Perception is powerful.
People see us from the outside and build explanations from what they can see. They see a quiet person and decide they’re angry. They see someone energetic and decide they’re doing great. They see someone struggling and assume they know why.
Sometimes they’re right.
Sometimes they’re completely wrong.
And sometimes the person being perceived doesn’t even have the words to explain the difference.
I’ve experienced that before.
Being understood incorrectly can be its own kind of exhaustion.
Not because everyone has to understand you perfectly. They don’t.
But because constantly correcting someone else’s version of you can start to feel like another job.
And I’ve already been thinking a lot about what it means to stop making everything a job.
For months now, I’ve been trying to work on myself.
Think better.
Do better.
Move forward.
Be healthier.
Be more confident.
Be more present.
Be more accepting.
Keep going.
Keep improving.
Keep becoming.
And all of those things are good.
I believe that.
But I think there is a point where self-improvement can accidentally become another way of telling yourself that you aren’t enough yet.
Another thing to accomplish.
Another version of yourself to reach.
Another finish line that keeps moving.
I’ve started wondering if maybe I don’t always need to fix myself.
Maybe sometimes I just need to listen to myself.
There is a difference.
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, perception is the way in which something is regarded, understood, or interpreted.
I like that word because it leaves room for interpretation.
What we perceive isn’t necessarily the complete truth.
It is simply what we understand from where we are standing.
And maybe that applies to ourselves too.
Maybe sometimes I look at myself from one bad day and decide that the entire picture is wrong.
Maybe feeling bad doesn’t mean I’m failing.
Maybe being tired doesn’t mean I’ve stopped trying.
Maybe having an unproductive day doesn’t erase the productive ones.
Maybe being uncomfortable doesn’t mean I’m moving backward.
There’s a quote from Carl Rogers that has stayed with me:
“The good life is a process, not a state of being.”
I think I’ve spent a lot of time treating the good life like a destination.
Something I eventually arrive at.
Something where everything finally makes sense.
Something where I’m healthy enough, stable enough, confident enough, happy enough, and then—
I’ve made it.
But life doesn’t really seem to work that way.
Some days feel good.
Some don’t.
Some days I’m proud of myself.
Some days I’m frustrated with myself.
Some days I understand exactly what I’m feeling.
Some days I don’t.
And maybe all of those days still belong to the same life.
That’s probably the part I’m still learning.
I don’t have to turn every difficult month into a lesson.
I don’t have to make every uncomfortable feeling productive.
I don’t have to squeeze a revelation out of every bad day just so I can justify having had it.
Sometimes August is just August.
Sometimes you’re tired.
Sometimes you don’t feel good.
Sometimes you get misunderstood.
Sometimes you misunderstand yourself.
And sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is notice it without immediately demanding that it change.
I’ve been trying to do that lately.
Notice.
Not judge.
Not immediately fix.
Not immediately explain.
Just notice.
This is where I am.
This is how I feel.
This is what I can do today.
And this is what I can’t.
There is something strangely comforting about allowing those statements to be enough.
Because I’m still moving.
Even when it doesn’t feel like it.
I’m still learning.
Even when I don’t have an answer.
I’m still becoming.
Even when becoming looks suspiciously like sitting still for a while.
Maybe that’s what August has given me.
Not an answer.
Not a breakthrough.
Just a little more permission to be a person instead of a project.
And maybe that’s important too.
Because I don’t want to spend my entire life preparing to finally become someone I’m allowed to be.
I want to actually be here.
Even when I’m tired.
Even when I’m confused.
Even when my body doesn’t feel right.
Even when my mind doesn’t feel right.
Even when someone else sees me differently than I see myself.
Especially then.
I’m still here.
And maybe I don’t need to feel good every second to recognize that being here is still something worth noticing.
So August ends without a neat conclusion.
I’m still figuring things out.
Still working on myself.
Still trying.
Still having days where I don’t feel very good.
But I think I’m getting a little better at not turning that into a judgment about who I am.
Maybe feeling off is just feeling off.
Maybe tomorrow will feel different.
Maybe it won’t.
Either way, I’ll meet it when it gets here.
For now, August is ending.
And I’m here to watch it go.
Poem of the Month
by me
Perception & Energy
Perception is a source of energy—
a way we receive,
a way we respond,
a way we understand what we are given.
When we don’t feel energetic,
when we are unwell,
receiving becomes harder.
What we might usually correct
becomes harder to explain.
What we might usually ignore
becomes harder to carry.
Energy is needed
to either correct or ignore
the perceptions placed upon us.
And the choice of how we receive
is more difficult
than anyone perceives.
When we have energy,
we can question perception.
Correct it.
Let it pass.
But when we don’t,
the receiving becomes more noticeable.
The words weigh more.
The looks linger longer.
The assumptions become louder.
Not necessarily because they changed—
but because we have less energy
to carry them.
Sometimes perception
isn’t about how we are seen.
It is about
how much energy
we have left
to receive being seen.
