There is nothing to do and nowhere to be today. Nothing anyone is asking of me and nothing I can ask of myself. I have hours to fill however I choose. I’d love it if it weren’t for this restless energy in me. I’d love it if I had the focus, the motivation to choose, to settle on a path and course of action. Instead, I don’t want to anything but scroll and sleep.
After typing that I decided that even if I only did one thing today that felt like progress, that was for me, then I would be happy. So, I did two. I did the dishes. Then I changed the blade in my X-Acto knife and got to cutting up magazine pages for future collages and poems. I forget how soothing that is sometimes. I forget how nice it is to put on music and flip through pages destroying and remixing people, places, and words.
After some time in my own bubble, I was able to emerge reset and refocused. I’m up and moving about the house marking completed task after completed task. The day flew by faster than I realized while I was in it and next week is already looming large in front of me. Looking ahead at all I have to do and knowing that it’ll be an exhausting, demoralizing uphill battle the whole way is leaving me with an awful tightness in my chest.
While meditating tonight, during the part where I’m guided to “check-in with the body and acknowledge my emotional state” I noticed I feel both fatigued and full of all this worry. I’ve been wondering if perhaps I do carry more stress and anxiety than I realize. I’ve been wondering if this is why I can’t seem to get my symptoms under control, why I’m so tired, so on edge?
Sick of balancing multiple roles, some days I wanted to be less human.”
— Chelsea Hodson, from Tonight I’m Someone Else: Essays; “The End Of Longing,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
“The point of ‘doing nothing’ is to clean up our inner lives. There is so much that happens to us every day, so many excitements, regrets, suggestions and emotions that we should—if we are living consciously—spend at least an hour a day processing events. Most of us manage—at best—a few minutes—and thereby let the marrow of life escape us. We do so not because we are forgetful or bad, but because our societies protect us from our responsibilities to ourselves through their cult of activity. We are granted every excuse not to undertake the truly difficult labour of leading more conscious, more searching and more intensely felt lives.
The next time we feel extremely lazy, we should imagine that perhaps a deep part of us is preparing to give birth to a big thought. As with a pregnancy, there is no point hurrying the process. We need to lie still and let the idea gestate—sure that it may one day prove its worth. We may need to risk being accused of gross laziness in order one day to put in motion projects and initiatives we can feel proud of. ”
I’m struggling to send an email, just one email. I’ve written it and rewritten. I’ve had it proofread by two different people and then rewrote it again.
It’s hard to explain what you do to other people, and harder still to explain it to your bosses. They decide if what you do is right, or enough, or worth paying a person to do at all. It’s hard to meet expectation that weren’t spelled out explicitly and it’s hard to know what people want when they never told you they wanted anything.
Today was rough. Work has been rough since my return last week. I’m burned out on doing what I am good at but not what I love. I’m burned out on expectations and admiration. I burned out on being looked to and longing to work alone on what really thrills and fulfills me.
I went home early and had to nap after staying up so late last night. That may have been part of the reason today was so rough. I had a headache. I miss my wife. I’m worried about the coming year. I’m hot and hungry. I’m all out of sorts and I just want to be left alone to get back right but course, I have a busy schedule the whole week ahead and, of course, it’s up to me to make sure it all goes according to plan.
I’m trying to remember that I’m not stuck here and that this rut is only temporary.
I can hear the fireworks going off around the neighborhood again. I guess it’s that time of year. I haven’t been sleeping well lately and between the sudden summer heat and the nightly displays of patriotism, I’m sure I won’t sleep well again until August…
I’ve decided not to go into work tomorrow since we have the walkthrough and it’s easier to stay home than to rush home for the dog beforehand. I want to stay up late since I know I don’t have to get up early but I’m trying to be mindful of what my body needs and to practice self-care while my stress levels are so high. I’m leading by example and by need. The stress is affecting our health and it would be a shame to end up in the ER or to rack up any medical bills before the big day.
So, it’s back to basics. We’re going to bed on time, drinking lots of water, meditating, and going for walks. We’re eating meals, eliminating snacks, and getting away from the T.V. more. We’re holding each other accountable to prevent procrastination and guilt. We’re looking out for each other, being patient with ourselves, and accepting what is out of our control.
The stress is getting to be too much. Were nearly two months out now and I’m still not even sure what we are doing or what we should be doing next. I’m designing menu cards and ceremony signs and she’s putting together centerpieces but it feels like we should be doing something else, something more.
Tomorrow I’m supposed to head to the first tailor on my list for suit alterations but to be honest I don’t want to go. My anxiety is through the roof! I’m scared of being turned away. I’m scared that the suit can’t be fitted or that no matter what they do I will still look bad in it. I’m afraid of the price too. I’m fucking terrified to end up back at square one again.
To top it off things keep changing too. Sometimes it’s what we can’t do, sometimes its something we realize we have to do, and other times it’s realizing finally what it is we want to do. Staying on the same page is difficult, and the patience we show for one another, though exhausting, is only further proof we belong together.
The week was going well until I was informed it would inevitably end on a hectic note. A new class of employees is starting and my team and I are needed to train and test them. It’s a bigger class than we’ve had in a while and that means more hours must be given up for the task. Hours I would normally spend reading or writing.
It’s hard to plan my weeks, make progress on projects, or reach goals when my schedule keeps changing so much, but maybe that’s life. Maybe I’m lucky to have any semblance of a routine to impact in the first place. I suppose there are people whose day-to-day is more chaos than calm every day. I wonder how they cope?
But, once again what frustrates me also serves to remind me how lucky I am, how far I have come, and how much I have to be grateful for.
As usual, the weekend flew by too quickly and, of course, I didn’t get to even half of the things I’d hoped. My next chance won’t be for another 5 days now and, at this moment, looking down the long length of those five days, I’m filled with righteous indignation. Five days of every week I must give up and just two are left over for me? Half of which I need to use is in recovering from the five!
Sunday nights and all the required preparation only remind me how bleak and pitiless this reality really is.
I was finally able, after weeks of back and forth with my doctor, my insurance provider, the pharmacy, and the drug company, to get my medication and now I find myself almost too afraid to take it! They really should try to find gentler wording to use in those warning packets they give you the first time, you know?
I wish I felt comfortable enough to share the outrageous cost of the medication here but I will tell you that after ringing up the bottle the pharmacist simply started at the screen with a look that was equal parts confused and astounded.
He wouldn’t even speak and only after I told him he was worrying me and asked him to please explain the look on my face did he ask me what I normally paid for the medication. I told him that whatever the cost I wasn’t the one paying; it was the drug company, and he sighed relief on my behalf. When the price came up on the card reader, I understood his shock. Even if it wasn’t my money, it hurt a little to swipe that card.
No matter what I go through in this shit show of a healthcare system I am constantly reminded that it could be worse. I could have had to pay that price tag with my own money, and in all honestly, that price would have been many times larger if I didn’t have insurance at all.
I’m frustrated for me but I’m wholeheartedly sorry for those worse off. I hope change comes soon and we all get relief from this cruel and unnecessary bureaucracy.