Selfcare and other terrible phrases

Had a long-ish day at work, ran some errands, came home, came upstairs, opened the laptop, plugged in the hard drive, and

Nothing.

Nada.

No drive, and no focus.

And that’s ok, we’re still trying to get back in the swing of things. The fact that I’m typing here and didn’t just bail altogether is really good.

At work today, my Wednesday trainer and I realised we hadn’t seen each other in 3 weeks. Which means it’s only been 3 weeks since we moved, and 1 week since I fried my brain at work.

It’s funny how time feels like it’s going backwards when we’re stressed, but when you start to feel better, you’re like “what do you mean, it’s been 3 weeks? Hasn’t it only been like 2 mins?”

Stress, you ol dirty bastard.

It’s also funny how you can feel nostalgic about those times where you felt like garbage, overstressed, sad, flat, bloated old potato growing fur and eyes in the bottom of the basket. But then again, it’s really not that funny – it’s how conditioned us depressive types get to feeling unwell. It becomes normal. It’s ‘easy’. We know how to work it, because it happens all the time. It doesn’t stop us from complaining and whinging with every atom of our being, because it sucks to feel that way. Contentment, happiness, comes different each time and is unpredictable. It’s hard to feel safe in that.

But I’m trying to re-learn what ‘safe’ is.

like –

Learning to accept that I can have good things in my life – like accepting that people can genuinely like me. And that not everyone or everything has an agenda to kick my ass. Like I don’t have to control everything. Like people can participate in the things I like to do without me feeling like they’re pushing me out. Learning I don’t have to launch into catastrophe mode.

Learning to give myself good self care (that’s a phrase that has less meaning every time you say it) — my trainer today asked me what I do for self-care when I’m stressed, and I honestly wasn’t sure. I thought, well, I reward myself with zoning out to a crap TV show or movie, or eat an entire birthday cake, or allow myself not to shower, etc. But nothing like, I do yoga or take a walk or meditate or write. And I thought, why don’t I do that?

And then I thought, this week I have: set boundaries with my personal time, I’ve taken the time to write at least 3 words after work, I met with my trainer today, I’ve bathed regularly. I’m listening to music more instead of re-runs. So, I’m actually doing a lot of good self care this week.

So hey – take that, Feelings Monster.

Ok, so I didn’t write in my manuscript today. But I’ve been a little vulnerable here. And that’s fixing the instrument that helps me write. Gotta have that good base.

Over this shit, how ’bout you?

Alright folks, all together now please recite the biggest understatement of the year: “2020 has been an absolute shit show.”

Everyone is feeling the struggle. Shit has been hard. Since FEBRUARY.

As I headed out of the mind-fuck that was April and into May, work from home was hitting a good rhythm, and I was dangerously close to relaxing into the “new normal.” Our COVID numbers were starting to decline, restrictions were easing up, and there was even talk of returning to work at the end of June. My therapist went on maternity leave at the end of May, and in our last session when she asked if I wanted to set up some sessions with someone else while she was away, I was all “naaah I feel good, I got this.” And we laughed uproariously and shared a Zoom high-5 and the screen froze and we rolled to credits and the next scene was 2021 and shit was all good.

Except that didn’t happen – June happened and shit wasn’t all good.

Continue reading “Over this shit, how ’bout you?”

What a Time to be Alive

Remember the phrase “March comes in like a lion, but goes out like a lamb”? People in the States said it all the time, because the beginning of Spring – March – usually has heaps of storms and crazy temperature changes, but April is supposedly¬†the start of the “beautiful months” (If you’re into everything blooming and plants spooging pollen everywhere – I much prefer Fall when everything dies and I can stop blowing my nose and overdosing on anti-histamines). I could say this phrase applies to March 2020. But I could also say March came in like a Sherman Tank and left like a pack of angry terminators in 1996.

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actual depiction of March 22-31

But seriously. Continue reading “What a Time to be Alive”