Procrastination

dylan-freedom-79TnmVbnLw8-unsplash

I am procrastinating.

The things I’m procrastinating on are little things, but they have a very big impact on my life.  The things I’m procrastinating on will set in motion things that will literally change my life as I know it, and all for the better.  I had to ask myself this morning why on earth I’m procrastinating on improving my life.

The answer is simple:  I don’t like change.  I’m probably afraid of it.  Yes, it’s going to change my life for the better, but it’s still going to be change.  It means choices, decisions, actions… more things to do.  I have linked the simple action of taking two photos and sending an email to the whole big scary mess, like by doing this I will immediately have to do all these other things.  Which is a load of crap.  All of the rest of it is still months off.

But my brain is ignoring me and panicking nonetheless.  It’s leaving me paralysed with anxiety and the need to run away.  This anxiety is causing my muscles to tense, which is causing a fibromyalgia flare up, which is making me even more inclined to procrastinate because it hurts to do things.

I’m going to do it today, because I need to get it done and out of the way, but I really really don’t want to.

My Head Is Not A Safe Place Right Now – And That’s Okay

mr-tangent-UVEqiVdEkdQ-unsplash

I went on holiday last week to the most beautiful place on earth, the one place that has stayed with me throughout my life.  The one place that I truly feel at peace.

I had this grand idea that I would spend my days relaxing, spinning, and otherwise existing in a zen-like state.  In my head I was going to become one with myself and reach … while not quite a higher state of being, certainly a more peaceful state of being.

It, um, did not go well.

The first two days I was just so relieved to exist in my little slice of heaven that it filled me with a false sense of security and achievement, because I was almost zen-like.  I was decompressing, and I was able to spend a good 30-40 minutes just staring at the ocean in a state of quiet.  I think it was more that I was shell-shocked at the sudden change in stresses that my brain just blanked out on me, leading me to a false quiet.

Then my brain came back, and with it my anxiety, and oh boy it was not a nice place to be!  I hadn’t brought any reading material with me, so I vainly scrambled for some fanfiction escapism, but even that fell flat.  I had a burning need to be doing anything but what I am currently doing in my chest, and my brain bounced around the walls of the cabin maniacally.

But I continued to push for that zen aesthetic, that peaceful state of being.  I was firm in this belief that this is the state I should be in, it was the correct state, and I was wrong for not being able to achieve it.  It took me two days of struggling to correct my thinking.  My head is not a safe place to be in alone, and that’s okay.  With that admission, with the acceptance of this fact, I was able to relax once more and implement my distraction regime.

Distraction helps.  Depending on how bad my brain is depends on what kind of distraction I use – I have ‘high value’ distractions and ‘low value’ distractions.  I chose to hit it with all I’ve got.  I’m on holiday, after all, I want to be enjoying myself!

So I cracked out my gaming laptop and put on Two Point Hospital (the spiritual successor of Theme Hospital, my favourite game ever) and listened to podcasts.  With their powers combined I was not left alone in my head and all the bad thoughts ricocheting around quietened down.

Sure, I felt guilty about spending my time inside playing computer games instead of sitting peacefully and admiring the beautiful view, but I realised that my mental health needs were more important than my belief that I must make the most of my location.

I’ve just realised, as I’ve been typing this out, that I have a big Fear Of Missing Out.  It has been drilled into me that I must make the most of every opportunity I have been given.  If I am in a new place, I must always be out exploring it.  If I am in a beautiful place, I must always be out admiring it.  If I am invited out to dinner with friends (which never happens because all of my friends are students, so we’re either too broke or too busy), I feel like I must go to not miss out.

It’s all a lie.  Because while I may be constantly out exploring a new place, I am also missing out on wellbeing and ensuring my physical needs are balanced.  While I may be constantly admiring a beautiful place, I am also missing out on ensuring my mental health needs are met.  While I may be going out to dinner with friends, I am missing out on storing energy to deal with things the next day.

So I guess what I’m saying is – it’s okay to not be okay.  Do what you need to do, regardless of where you are.  If you can’t do the zen thing, don’t force it!  Work with what you have, rather than what you think you should have.

And anyone who says otherwise is wrong.

Nightmares – A Small Setback

andrew-neel-wwQaXLF6stk-unsplash

I’ve been having dreams, nightmares, whatever you want to call it, I’ve been having it.  It invariably involves one or the other of my past abusers.

My usual nightmare involves It, the narcissist I was with for the longest, the one who caused the most damage, and my PTSD.  It typically involves him returning, and just assuming that the relationship is back on, and I fake it.  I fake it to hide my relationship with my amazing human being – which is basically what I’m doing now, minus the being in a relationship with him part, and more with him being on the other side of the world (THANK FUCK).

My first abuser was in my dream last night.  Then, later on in the dream, I did what I have always dreaded doing.  I said Its name instead of my amazing human being’s name.

Sometimes, in the awake world, It’s name will be on the tip of my tongue instead of my amazing human’s name.  I don’t speak when that happens.  I have almost been away from him for the same length of time as I was with him, but some scars take longer to heal than others.

All of this has … done something to me.  I feel flat and anxious at the same time.  I don’t want to do anything.  I want to bundle up in a blanket and drink tea and watch Forensic Files.

And unfortunately I can’t today.  Or at least not all day.  I have adulting I must do before I can be an amorphous blob.

Accepting Limitations

clint-mckoy-569175-unsplash

I’ve been feeling pretty darned good these last couple of weeks.

I’ve had more energy.  I’ve had more cheer.  I’ve been jogging (gasp) – very slowly and only for a very short amount of time.  I’ve been generally doing more.  The pain has been at a manageable level – never completely gone, but gone enough that a mild to moderate value distraction is enough to put it out of my mind.

Yesterday morning we had a start time of 7.00am.  I was up at 5 so I could get everything ready and be there by 6.45am.  It was early and I was stiff and sore already – not good considering I would be in a stressful situation and on my feet and moving constantly for the next 3 hours.

It was hard work – there was a lot going on, mostly things went well but we had a few panics, and I was well occupied.  I lasted until about 9.30 when the fatigue hit, and by the time we were wrapping it up at 10 I was in a lot of pain and just absolutely glazed.  We cleaned up and left for our lecture from 10.30am to 12.00pm, which I am fairly sure I slept through with my eyes open.  We had our one hour lunch break, and then were back in from 1-3.

By the time I got home at 4.30 I was barely capable of seeing straight.  I slept like the dead last night.

Today I’m still exhausted and in pain.  I’ve spent most of the morning lying down with my legs up on the back of the couch, which seems to be the most comfortable position for me when I’m in pain.

This has been a reminder that I have limitations, and my limitations are a lot closer than normal people’s limitations.  This has been a reminder that I have a chronic debilitating condition that causes fatigue and pain when I overreach myself.

This has also been a reminder that I need to communicate this to my team and the teaching staff more promptly so that I am still able to do what I need to do, but I don’t get to point of burnout like I did yesterday.

I still haven’t quite accepted that I can’t do everything other people do.  I still need to be reminded by my dear friend that I can’t just build a cabin on wheels in a week or two (that’s another story).  But I’m learning, and with each reminder I learn more.

Never Go To Bed Angry

steve-harvey-721238-unsplash

“Never go to bed angry” is one of the earlier pieces of advice I heard, or read, or somehow acquired.  Who knows where from, or what it was for, or why, but it’s advice I have occasionally worked quite hard to follow.

Tonight is an excellent example.  Tonight I am feeling very put upon and sorry for myself – to be honest, I have been for most of the week, because this week has been awful, and I feel like I’ve been dumped on by people who should be trying to relieve my burdens, and by people who I felt should have recognised that.

I have been sick.  Not sniffles sick, but full on fever, vomiting, delirium, the works.  This will be the fifth day.  I still have a fever.

On top of that we’ve had no power to our hot water cylinder, which I’ve been tasked with finding a resolution for (long story, no one wants it to be their fault, I JUST WANT HOT WATER).

The dog had a really bad hotspot and needed to be seen by the vet.  That same night my friend’s dearly beloved cat and companion took a very sudden turn for the worse, and when I met her in the emergency clinic, it was decided that she would not be returning home with us.

I had a nurse’s appointment, then a doctor’s appointment.  An exam.  Still no hot water.

My lovely human (who I will gently address this with) said with a stern voice “we have to do something about this food in the fridge, it’s all going to go off!  We’re going to have to give it away!”  Except his tone of voice meant that I was the one who would have to do this, along with everything else.  “I can smell the dog, you’ll have to clean the cushions after this,” while I’m lying on the couch, unable to keep more than toast and honey down or stay conscious for much longer than an hour.

I am exhausted.  Tonight I mistook the dog’s medication for the cat’s medication, so off we went to the after hours vet clinic to have vomiting induced (which didn’t happen … until we got home!).  I even had a little cry in the waiting room while everything just hit me.

So I’m feeling very sad and put upon.  And not without reason, either, it’s been a catastrophically shit week and it just doesn’t seem to want to end.  It’s taking a lot of effort not to mope and sulk and be petty.  It’s when I feel like this that I know I’m at nope point and I need to take some time to relax.

A bit of music goes a long way, so while I’m waiting for my cat to be a bit more conscious, I’m chilling.  Then I will sleep!