Episode 8: The Night I Thought 'I Can't Do This Anymore' | The Day I Let Go of a 'Life of Carrying Everything' in My 40s
When I wake up in the morning, my body won't move the way I want it to.
I try to move quietly so I don't wake my daughter, who is sleeping on the top bunk.
But my lower back refuses to cooperate.
I stare at the ceiling of the bed for five, then ten minutes.
Using only the strength in my arms, I finally manage to sit up.
Even after getting into the car, I sit there for a while, blankly gripping the steering wheel.
In my forties, the nature of my fatigue changed.
Days increased where I worked until late at night and collapsed into bed without even eating.
Even after sleeping, the exhaustion remained.
My lower back pain became chronic, and I kept working while getting nerve block injections at the hospital.
I also developed Meniere's disease.
The diagnosis was 'excessive fatigue'.
Even so, I went back to work the next day.
My mother's spending habits never changed.
Every time I opened my bankbook, my chest tightened.
Days were spent going out for sales calls while calculating payments.
Does my mother think I'm a 'magic mallet'?
Every time that thought crossed my mind, sadness washed over me before anger could.
Money was never far from my mind.
The turning point was a minor traffic accident on my way home.
I was supposed to stop at the red light.
I thought I had pressed the brake.
There was a dull thud.
The contact with the car in front was slight.
It wasn't a major accident.
But in that moment, I knew clearly.
I could no longer hide the limits of my body.
If I keep going like this, I will break.
I wake up many times in the middle of the night.
In the dark room, I repeat the same question.
"I'm trying so hard, so why am I not being saved?"
Even while thinking that, somewhere inside,
I was telling myself, "Still, I have no choice but to keep going."
But back then, for me,
breaking down was closer than keeping on.
I was like an ant that had fallen into an antlion pit.
The more I tried to climb out, the more the sand crumbled away.
I can't try anymore.
Thinking that, I realized it for the first time.
It wasn't that I couldn't try anymore.
It was that I myself
no longer wanted to continue a life of trying.
It took time to admit that fact.
But the moment I admitted it, the premise of my life collapsed with a loud noise.
"Carrying everything on my own"
That was not a virtue.
It was just a misconception.
I took a new step forward.
To be honest, I was scared.
But I don't think I would have moved if it hadn't been for that traffic accident.
That dull thud
was a warning from my body saying, "I can't do this anymore."
In the year since then, my life has changed quietly.
Days spent being chased by payments
and thinking only about money.
Now, I can choose the things I like, by my own will.
No miracle happened.
I didn't win the lottery.
And no one came to save me.
I simply
listened to the voice in my heart,
saying, 'I don't want to go on like this.'
Truly, you can change your life at any age.
Are you
listening to the voice in your own heart?
This article is part of a series
I am writing as I look back on my life,
**'Akari Yunagi.'**
I will continue to write about the process of rebuilding my life from here on.
If you'd like, please follow me and read the rest.
▶ Click here for my self-introduction
――――――――――
**Akari Yunagi Series | You Can Change Your Life at Any Age**
Episode 1
The me in my 20s who thought life was pitch black is here now
Episode 2
How I, who lived in a black-and-white world, deal with money now
Episode 3
My new days that began by quitting
Episode 4
The day I felt the limits of living alone | When I stopped living a life of carrying everything
Episode 5
Until I came to believe that 'you can change your life at any age'
Episode 6
The day I entered a 'life of carrying everything'
Episode 7
My 40s, the day I felt the limits of living alone | The real reason I developed a 'habit of trying too hard'
▶ Next Article
Episode 9: Age 45, the day I ended my life living with my mother
I will post articles every Tuesday.
If you feel anything,
please let me know quietly.
I will continue quietly.
Again, right here.