Monday Was A Hard Day

Some days are fucking hard. Today was a hard day. Not difficult, but hard. It wasn’t initially, but my fatigue snuck up on me. I woke up naturally around 9. Usually I wake up around 10. I decided to use what I’ve been learning from The Happiness Project and look at waking up early as an opportunity rather than a drawback.

I got out of bed quietly to not disturb the sleeping girlfriend and dog. I washed my face with cold water and turned the space heater off. I went to the kitchen to get a glass of green juice to take with my morning meds and see my 9-year-old sister at the dining room table playing Legos. I tell Sister I’ll come make breakfast in an hour or so. I go back to my room. I start reading the next chapter in The Happiness Project. I’ve avoided looking at my phone, a new habit I’m trying to pick up as a result of recent political events. So far I’m doing really good at not looking at Facebook before I’m actually awake.

By the time Girlfriend is getting ready to leave for school, I’m exhausted. It’s 11. Sister has not been fed yet. I tell her to cook herself a breakfast patty in the microwave; I’ll make lunch, just let me rest. Now I’m allowed to scroll through my social media feeds. I share the link for my newest post to spam my loved ones. I read an article on how to encourage myself to exercise (psh ok, try again in a month, Article).

The weekend went amazing. We worked on cleaning up our bathroom which had been neglected during all the doctor’s appointments and days spent in bed in pain. I started working on purging bathroom items. We washed our sheets and remade the bed. I got posts written and scheduled for the beginning of the week for when I’m more tired. I read for 2 hours. I remembered my medication. Sunday we cleaned up the kitchen; Girlfriend got laundry done and cleaned out our long overdue fireplace; we put all the Christmas decorations away and started cleaning up the communal areas. I made scrambled eggs and toast for the whole family; got more reading done; wrote some more; uploaded photos to National Geographic My Shot; checked emails; washed my hair. This weekend was full of good days.

But many of my days are like today.
Today the only reason I made it out of bed is because Sister needs a clean leotard for ballet at 4. I made it out of bed today is because Dog needs breakfast. Raelee need breakfast. I made it out of bed today because if I don’t get out of bed I will feel like crap later, and hate myself tomorrow.

To make it easier, I bargain with myself.
If you get out of bed, you can re-wear the fluffy socks from yesterday that are just right there on the floor. If you get out of bed you can watch Gossip Girl and play Sims all day, just not in bed. If you get out of bed, you can have tea in a cute mug. If you get out of bed, you can pee and eat, and then your stomach won’t hurt. If you get out of bed you can have a gold star.

Let me just take a minute to rant about something.

Able-bodied and/or neurotypical people (meaning people not dealing with long impacting structural and/or mental and/or physiological differences such as but not limiting to disability, anxiety, immune deficiency, etc.) cannot fully comprehend the struggle.
I’m not saying that to be a special snowflake, or to discredit their own struggles. I’m saying it because pretending otherwise is petty and a waste of time. It’s ok to not comprehend something you’ve never experienced, that’s a given; just don’t be a jerk about it. I’ve taken my share of mental health days, and I needed them. Sometimes it’s just really fucking difficult to pull yourself out of the sheets because it doesn’t seem worth it, life doesn’t seem worth it. The amount of skepticism that receives is astounding to me.

I’m not stuck in bed because it’s comfy, I’m stuck in bed because I feel like I’m not in control of my own emotions or my own body. Which leads to an internal dialog criticizing my own lack of ability, even though I know I can’t control it, but what if I can and I’m just being whiny? You get the picture. Its a banter, back and forth with myself, and its not fun. 0/10.

If that isn’t a relatable situation for someone, fine, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t this large group of people having mental battles with themselves everyday. I think honestly the biggest issue we have with trying to relate and understand each other is that we never bother trying in the first place. We are a society that is fast paced and full of quick decision-making. Taking the time to fully comprehend what someone is saying to us is not something we encourage and teach, not really. We reward fast choices, and as consequence, I think we condemn true patience.

The rest of the day goes a little better. I’m armored in dirty fluffy socks and a warm sweater. Instead of breakfast I made lunch, and worked on the blog for a little. After we eat, Sister and I work on purging and sorting through her room as part of our new family Living With Less initiative. I get her leotard clean and ready for ballet class, as well as a load of laundry. We work on her room for almost three hours, purge half a bag of trash, half a bag of things to recycle, and half a box of toys to give away. We only comb through a small portion of her room. But it’s a start, and we managed to do it with no fighting, sweat, or tears from either of us.

I Netflix and Tea till Girlfriend comes home. I’m done for the day. It’s only 4 o’clock. For a hard day, I got some things worked on. Not enough to be really proud of myself, but enough that I still got a gold star, so. That’s something.


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