Statuses

Monday finds me fatigued and frayed with anxiety. It’s been several nights since I’ve slept well and several weeks or more of what are probably elevated stress levels. The only thing keeping me going is knowing I’m already in the tunnel and if I don’t want to be stuck here, I have to keep going to the end. The only out is through, you know?

To help, I’m insisting on time for myself. No matter that the time never seems to come packaged in hours but only ever in moments between expectations and obligations, between tasks and to-dos, between the things people need from me and the person they need me to be. No matter how little or how scattered, theses moments are mine.

And what am I doing with my time? Nothing as productive as I wish. Today, it turns out, is one of those “input days“. What I mean is, I’m doing a lot of sifting through collected articles and images, sorting and sharing them where they should go. I

I used to consider days like these lost or useless days. I used to think it was pur procrastinating or lack of willpower on my part, These articles, quotes, videos, and images are to my writing like paint is to an artist, and this sifting and sorting is like mixing colors.

Days like this are for reconnecting with what interests me, re-sparking my creativity, and remixing concepts that at the time of their discovery were concise and contained within their own realms but since have become blurred and blended in the deep and dark recesses of my subconscious.

This is the work I do now, and it’s essential to the work I want to do, eventually.

The forecast promised warm weather today but so far all we’ve gotten are clouds and cool breezes. I’m hearing murmurs of severe storms and even hail later and hoping the rumors are true. The sun has been nice, but in the late afternoon the heat can become oppressive if the afternoon storms don’t roll in and restrain the rising temperatures.

The clouds are comforting though, matching my mood as my mind replays the tragedies of the past year. I haven’t told all (not all stories are mine to tell) nor gone into great detail (an emotional burden I couldn’t ask you to bear) but these last 12+ months have been some of the hardest I have ever lived though.

Illness, losses, trauma, sacrifice, failures, the blows followed back to back with hardly any time to process before the next crisis began and as a result I’m suffering the effects in unpredictable and heart-wrenching waves.

At random moments throughout my day the realization that life is so different, has been so affected, and feels so fucking hard now and the knowledge there is nothing I can do to change where we are or to soften any of the hurt felt so far, hits me, and I break out into tears, into rage, into an overwhelming need for comfort so big I fear it can never be satisfied.

I’m trying my best to keep one foot in front of the other, in front of the other, in front of the other and to be at least realistic whenever I can’t be positive. Life goes on and I go on, one way or another. I’d like some control. I’d like to make choices. I’d like the future to be different from the past. I’d like to never have another year like the last again but if I do, I hope to find myself with lessons learned and feeling a lot more resilient than I do now.

But! It’s Friday, the sun is beginning to peek from behind the clouds and I’m ready to turn this low mood around. I have coffee in hand and my friends are waiting with promises of laughter and distraction. Life may be hard in general, but today will be a good day despite it all. The secret is in how you look at it. It’s in what you choose to focus on and what you choose to hold to and what you choose to let hold you up. It’s in how you choose to let it shape you.

Control.

Choices.

Lessons.

Resilience.

Perhaps they are already here.

Today is not as much of a “do-nothing” kind of day as yesterday was. I always forget that if you try to rest all of Saturday, you must do double duty on Sunday and this Sunday’s to-do list is quite long. Add that to the late start and the gloomy skies and my mood is bordering on irritable and I’m close to giving up and letting the universe implode or whatever happens when you decide to stop being a responsible adult for more a day or so.

Today’s coping tool is the timer. I’m alternating between writing time, and time to work through the to-do list. I set 30 minutes and type away, then I get up and complete a task. I have a drink and a snack maybe then set another 30 minutes and start typing. I’m not perfect. Sometimes typing time turns into Twitter time and sometimes task time turns into TV time, but I’m trying. In the end, something will get done today.

I admit this isn’t the most effective way to structure my Sunday. My wife is the type to separate her task time and free time entirely, as I think most people are. She spends her morning on errands and chores and then has the whole of the afternoon to herself. It sounds nice, and I have tried to break my days up this way but while doing one I’m always thinking of the other. When I’m washing dishes I want to write, when I’m writing I want to wash dishes and in the end neither is done well or efficiently.

It’s better for me to know that I only have to focus on one thing for a little while. I can enjoy the peace and satisfaction of one task without the guilt because I know I will get to the other in time.

I still wish I had another day to myself, at least. I really wish I had whole week to call my own! More time to do more of what I want in and more to spend with the people I love most. I will always believe the 40 hour work week was one of the cruelest inventions of humanity. And with that thought comes the usual Sunday afternoon blues…

It’s a do nothing kind of weekend here, the first I’ve had in a long time, and I’m exceedingly excited for it. The last few weekends have been far too busy and any free time I have over the next many have already been allocated for events and to-dos. So, I’m enjoying this peace while I can. I’m soaking up lowered expectations and reveling in not having a plan for anything.

Not that it’s easy. Sometimes resting is harder work than working. You have to fight the guilt. You have to fight the worry. You have to know your worth even when you slow down, even when you stop.

For someone like me, who struggles with self care and self worth daily, this is near impossible.I can’t change a whole lifetime of conditioning and time to do anything but work and sleep is too hard to come by, so there are a few tasks on the agenda. I tried to at least stick to only the to-dos I want to do. I chose a small house project to complete and close errand to run. Nothing too stressful or strenuous.

I’ll give in to the culture of capitalism and productivity for a short time so the rest of the day can be spent in the bliss of napping, snacking, and escaping into TV and social media. It’s sad I can’t have a whole day of nothing, but it’s at least going to be a day of gratitude and gratification. I’m happy to have the privilege of even a few hours of guilt free peace.

I spent another night tossing and turning, waking in the night, and struggling to fall back asleep. I can’t even remember the last time I slept soundly through a night or didn’t wake up with dark circles and heavy limbs. Still, considering the chronic sleep deprivation, I’m feeling pretty good today.

I feel light, like a weight has been removed from my chest for a time. I wouldn’t quite call it happy, but something very near it or something very far from melancholy, anyway. It’s more of a lack of pain than a euphoria. Sometimes when you’ve been low for so long, just getting to neutral can be a major sense of hope and pride.

Perhaps it’s only that the sun has finally returned, and the workday is scheduled to be an easy one. I feel ready to focus, ready to work, ready for a few steps forward for a change.

I read a blog post today from someone lamenting that they had fallen short of their goal and only finished half of a draft for their next book. I am by no means invalidating the feelings of failure, but couldn’t help thinking how proud this person should be to have had the courage to start at all and to make it halfway! I’m still working on ideas and anxiety. I hope one day to have gathered half the resolve, focus, and determination this blogger has. I hope they know I’m in awe of them.

The most I can ask of myself is to get through a scheduled hour of real writing. Not reading or research, not image editing, not journaling, real writing, followed by some time spent actually editing. When I say real writing, I don’t mean profitable writing, though someday soon I’d love for that to be my pursuit. I mean, writing that is meaningful to me. Writing I hope holds some value for you.

It may only be a personal essay, a poem, or a book review, but it’s writing I take seriously. It’s practice for something bigger and it’s purifying for the psyche and, for now, that’s all I ask from myself and from writing. I suppose it’s all I can ever ask.

Today proved a bit more productive than yesterday, or, perhaps not. Perhaps it was only productive in a different way. While yesterday I could find the time and focus for personal pursuits, today I had to return to work obligations and expectations. It was hard at first and I regret not allocating time for writing when I could but it felt good to make progress in other parts of my life too.

We’re hiring in my department and I’m thinking about what it means to have power and privilege over choosing people. I don’t hold much sway in my workplace but my opinions are at least heard if not always considered or heeded. It feels overwhelming to think you could play a role in someone’s employment. That you could help decide whether they have more work or less, more money or less, or are considered for more opportunities or not.

I’m thinking about what I think makes a good employee or coworker and by what criteria do I choose to recommend someone be brought on or let go. I think I lean too much on my gut and rate social or personal personality traits far too highly. I think too much about whether or not I will like a person and not enough about whether or not they can perform the work.

Whether or not I like them personally is a “me problem” just like if someone doesn’t like me I consider it a “them problem”. I come to my job to perform a function and receive a paycheck that’s all. It is a transaction and whether I enjoy the work or like my coworkers is besides the point, mostly. My point is being liked and making friends is not what I am being paid for and it is not essential to the role I play in my workplace. I should not expect more from others than I believe should be expected of me.

I should see people for their capabilities, their enthusiasm, their contribution to the goals we set as a team and leave the considerations at that. I also should use what little power I do have to further normalize this kind thinking when it comes to who should be offered advancement opportunities.

Be the change and all, you know?

Well, this Spring is continuing to bring more clouds and cold than sun or shine, and with it I’m continuing my trend of reclusivity and introspection.

I’m over these clouds and I’m over these pensive swings but rather than wishing for other weather or lighter moods, I’m planning on taking advantage of the ease with which words have been coming to me and spend my time in quiet focus.

The office is empty, and expectations of productivity are low. I’m grateful for the peace but it still doesn’t compare to being at home, cozy in bed, listening to the rain wash down the windows while I read a good book and sip a cup of strong coffee.

There clearly wasn’t enough weekend for me to do all the nothing I wanted because all I can think about now is the nothing I want to do the first chance I get but I expect that freedom won’t come until at least this coming Saturday morning. I’m imposing no expectations of rising early, writing, or working on anything at all. As good as moving through the tasks and to-dos feels, I think a day of doing nothing at all is long, long, long, overdue.

Until then, I’m simply putting one foot in front of the other. I’m breathing and barely getting by with the bare minimum. I’m surviving. I’m warning all my coworkers and loved ones alike—expect a complete lack of enthusiasm and eruptions of fiercely anti-social behaviors through the end of the day with relapses probable through the end of the week.

Sorry, not sorry.

It’s getting easier. I woke just after my alarm and though my body protested and made sweet promises, if only I stayed in bed cozy under the covers, I still managed to make my way to the kitchen table to write. The words flowed without needing to be forced. And though I wish I could stay here all day, I’m happy enough with my progress that I can get on with the rest of the day free from resentments and regrets.

Coffee, as always, is the catalyst, but I’m starting to appreciate the motivating effects of a good breakfast and proper hydration. The mind, it turns out, is easier to wrangle when it isn’t preoccupied with your most basic biological needs.

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I think this year’s Mother’s Day celebrations were a success! My mom was happy with her nails and the Your Mother’s Story Lined Journal I got her. She’s lead a remarkable and tragic life and I think it’s time we start writing some of her memories down and organizing them into something that could be passed down. My mother-in-law loved her homemade quiche and the signpost my wife built with all her children’s names and the number of miles away they are in any direction.

Now the focus turns to Father’s day, and then a barrage of birthdays through the summer and fall before the end of the year holidays. Looking ahead, suddenly, the time between now and 2022 seems too short and far too filled with stress. Suddenly, looking forward through time, I can feel my chest tighten with the panic of time tick, tick, ticking by. Suddenly life itself is too short.

And just like that, my mind has run away with me. Just like that I can start to spiral. This is why practicing mindfulness has become such a priority in my life. I tell myself that’s why a year lasts as long as it does. You cannot take it all in at once, the way my mind keeps trying to. You have to live it day by day, or, preferably, moment by precious and surprising moment.

This day, this holiday, was a good one. Tomorrow belongs to tomorrow and all the tomorrows after.