Life never goes according to plan. We either ride it out, or resist it - and that is what makes all the difference. 

Don't get me wrong, resistance can be a crucial asset. For example: resisting the urge to quit upon yourself and your goals. But in that same respect, resistance to things that are challenging and enduring: the things that make us grow and learn; can be a slow and painful death sentence for who we are, and who we ultimately become. 

I've spent the last 18 months or so resisting. Resisting a lot of things in a lot of ways - but overall, I've resisted. I've been stuck in a place of resistance to everything - both good and bad; both to my benefit and detriment.

Being stuck in a place that is both good and bad; both equally infuriating and challenging with the payoff hundreds of miles away - can be a lonely and devastating place. In therapeutic practice, we talk about the resistance that people show as both a telling trait to their progress, in addition to a resource that can be utilized in difficult places. 

So, I took time off of school, which was a good form of resistance. My years of going full throttle had caught up with me, and it was time to take time and pace myself a little more humanly. However, on the opposite side of the spectrum, I also began resisting my deteriorating mental state - and the real and horrifying reality of it: that I was not okay. 

I did a lot of things in resistance; for example, acting childish (a la temper tantrum) to things that I didn't want to know or deal with. Having been required from such a young age to always act like an 'adult' I experienced this as a useful form of resistance (aka, something that could help me to reconcile parts of me that I needed to expel and make peace with). However, I also did a lot of things in resistance denial - aka, "this isn't happening to me, I can push through it, it's fine."

Cue: mental breaking down and soul-crushing hurt. 

By pushing past my recovery, and trying to rush it into fruition, I can't help but think that it may have made it harder for me in the long run. This is an example where my ferocity in the face of life backfired; by trying to resist slowing down and dealing with my deterioration, I have made the process longer. 

I didn't stop and rest to let the wound heal; I slowed enough that it could almost heal, and then moved on too quickly and the wound reopened. 

To this day, the wound is still fresh. And to this day, I am still reconciling the resistance I feel to stopping long enough to let it heal. It's not pretty when it feels like you're just being pathetic and tired all the time. Or that you are not good enough to participate in all the things you want to - runs, hangout, lectures, concerts, interactions of any kind. 

I mean, who really knows if this is the way it was supposed to turn out or not. If we really consider all the facts - this could be exactly what was meant to happen; I was supposed to live this resistance to finally learn to heal better. 

For the time being, I'm just going to keep dealing with life as it happens - resisting or resting.

Hopefully soon I'll be able to recognize the difference.