It Happens...

I've talked about how I have systems and processes to run my life. Checklists, pretty colored stars, schedules, routines. It's the way I make sure I don't get lost in the weeds and get nothing done.

It's also how I regulate my mood swings. Like I know I feel better, not just physically, but mentally if I'm consistent with my workouts. I know I feel more settled if I can look at a checked off list at the end of the day. I know I feel more in control of a world that is not under control if I've handled my shit.

But...the challenge is that when I'm starting to falter I don't want to do any of those things. I know that I will feel better if I do. And if not all the way to better at least on my way. But I don't want to open my lists, let alone check them off. I don't want to get up and work out, or at least not the vigorous workout that I need to sweat out the doldrums. I don't want to write, even though I need to clear the demons from my head and look at them and see they aren't really that bad, like not really demons, just little whiny imps.

This is the part where getting medicated for my ADD would probably help. Katie has said that it doesn't change who she is personality wise, it just helps her to overcome the executive function issues. Like instead of thinking "I should do the dishes" she just does the dishes. (Simplified but in the right spirit) Of course the problem is that when I know the medication would help the most is when I am absolutely not going to get a doctor's appointment to medicate and once the worst passes I really don't need to medicate so why bother?

As you are guessing this last week hasn't been great. I've been flailing. I know why, or at least part of why. I haven't been sleeping well. Now, for some of you you are like, Yeah so? Because I've had insomnia for as long as I can remember. I didn't even know most people slept all the way through the night until I was in middle school. I've always struggled. Except for the past few years I've not. Most nights I get two chunks of sleep. Like 4 hours at the beginning of the night a little awake cycle then another 2 solid, and then an hour of patchy. That's basically 8 hours of sleep. Which is Ah. ma. zing. Except when insomnia really does hit hard it's really bad now.

I've gotten used to sleep and when you take it away it's the pits. In the past I just didn't feel bad until I got to multiple nights (like four or more) of an hour of less. But now? A couple nights of little sleep and I'm a mess. I've lost my tolerance for it. Sort of like drinking after going a while without any alcohol. It just hits a lot harder.

So that's been part of it. I've just been exhausted. But when I've tried to sleep it hasn't happened. Like dragging all day, try and take a nap, nope. Drag for the rest of the day, go to bed and well now let's just toss and turn for a few hours because clearly you're not sleepy anymore. Which is so frustrating and I know it's setting me up to have a lousy day the next day too.

BUT...I shouldn't have lousy days. Not really. I have no reason to stress. I don't work for anyone but me. I clean the house, I cook our meals and as long as I get the basics done there I don't HAVE to do anything else. There is no reason to stress, or to complain. Even if I've felt like I was drowning all week, all I need to do is put my feet down and stand up. Which doesn't really help, right? Even if it's your own voice nobody wants to hear "suck it up, sunshine" when they are feeling down. But still...suck it up, sunshine.

Today is better. I could feel the fog lifting a little yesterday. Finished a book that was in my wheelhouse (In Defense of Dabbling) and enjoyed it and related to it and was inspired by it. Had a decent night's sleep last night. Not perfect, but much better. Today I am almost through with a handful of chores and then I need to run a couple of errands, and I'm dressed to go out so that's a good first step to actually running them. And I'm writing. And admitting that it's been a not great week. Which is not easy to do. Because of that whole I have no reason to ever complain about my life and it actually makes me really uncomfortable to admit that things are difficult with NO reason for them to be difficult. Except for the, you know, persistent horrors of living through the downfall of your country's democracy. And my brain. Just those things.

I have systems. But sometimes they fail. And sometimes the failure is that I just don't want to follow them. It happens. And it sucks when it does. But the good thing about a system is that it's still in place just waiting to be used again.

Do laundry—check
Workout—check
Write—check

On my way to a multi-star day.

Whew.