Yesterday, faced with the reality that if I was unable to change things on my own, I’d need to seek professional help again, I mustered a tiny sliver of working brain and plotted my day:
If I couldn’t do this, I told myself, then on Monday I would make some phone calls and get help before things got much worse.
It’s 8:03 p.m. as I write this, and I did every thing listed here, save for two items–I didn’t write at 2:30 because something came up at work that needed my attention, and I’ve closed down the last programming lesson tonight to make up for that writing time.
As I drove to the afternoon Jazzercise class, I turned off the podcast I was listening to and listened to myself instead. I compared how I felt in that moment to how I felt 24 hours earlier. 72 hours earlier. A week earlier, at my darkest point.
I felt better. And I immediately resented it.
I don’t like that in order to be well and productive during the summer, I need to plan my life in 30 minute increments, give or take 5 minutes here and there. Why can’t I just be productive?
Every summer when school gets out, it’s a struggle to create a routine, but I know without one, I can spiral fast.
Today, I moved from one task to the next, and only checked social media accounts for about 3 minutes at a time (as opposed to earlier this week when I couldn’t tear myself away from Twitter for, I dunno, hours?). I’m sure this helped my frame of mind as well.
What’s more is that I don’t feel nearly as exhausted as I have other days this week. The tasks were planned meticulously, to make sure I gave myself breaks to read and write and practice the piano. I made sure I gave myself a longer buffer around meals so I could sneak in The Daily Show or an episode of a sitcom to lighten things up.
So while I resent planning days like I did today, it’s clear that I must. And since watching a movie is next up, I best get to choosing which movie I’ll end my day with.