Today feels like I wash. I wish it didn’t. I wish it felt like a super productive and worthwhile day. Wishing isn’t doing a whole lot to change anything, though. It’s a lot like sending “thoughts and prayers”. They don’t do a whole lot to change the situation.
This has been a theme for a while… weekends being harder than what it feels like they should be.
Yesterday was good; productive… I woke up, went to the gym, showered, and did the grocery shopping. I prepped what food I could for the coming meals. I cooked dinner for everyone. I cleaned the kitchen…
Today doesn’t have the same “do stuff” energy and it’s frustrating not knowing why.
I woke up and took my meds. Eventually, everyone else woke up, too. I made breakfast with Ox and that’s been the extent of my accomplishments. I’ve wasted an hour or so on Facebook scrolling in the hopes of seeing cute cat pictures or videos.
I’ve finally put the chicken in the oven so I can make my lunch containers for the week. I doubt I’ll get to the gym. I have notes I would like to type for work but instead, I’m writing this. I don’t know if writing can really be considered a “good” thing when it’s most likely being used as a form of procrastination.
Days like today are annoying. It’s cold outside again. Everyone else in the house is pretty much doing nothing and there’s not a way to get away from it; to be alone to find my own quiet thread of… something… motivation… discipline… It feels like I’m surrounded by this otherness and since I can’t physically get away from it, I’m left trying to escape it inside my head; survive it until it goes away on its own.
Part of me, a small part, wants to cry over the trapped feeling. The rest of me is apathetic. It’s used to this feeling and knows it’s pointless to try to fight it or change it. There isn’t a way to change it so just accept that today is going to suck and nothing is going to get accomplished…
Why do I have to have an obsession with accomplishment and productivity anyway?
What do I have on my list that’s so pressing that it has to be done today? Other than changes to one of my work checklists, there’s really nothing that needs to get done.
Maybe that’s part of the problem? I don’t actually have anything that requires me to do something. I don’t have a project to work on at home.
I don’t think that’s it. At least, it doesn’t feel like “Ah, yes. That’s the answer!” inside my head.
It feels like introversion burnout. It feels like “I want to be alone and I can’t so I’m going to be miserable instead,” which sucks.
I’ve been thinking about going back to therapy. I don’t think that would really help in this situation. Therapy can’t make me want less alone time, nor can it give me more of it. Therapy can’t give me my own room, nor convince anyone in the house that having my own room would be a good thing.
Conversations can help those things happen, and therapy can help those conversations happen or go well… but that’s not what I need. I know the skills and tools. I don’t need to learn them.
I don’t know what I need. I don’t know what I want and I don’t know how or where to start to find out.
I’ve been reading my writings to Ox again, but I don’t feel like reading this one. I don’t feel like posting it.
Why? What is it that I’m worried about sharing? There’s nothing in my writing that I haven’t said before. Nothing Ox doesn’t know about. Maybe it’s because I’ll be repeating the same stuff over again. It’s the same problem that I’ve had for what… five… six years now?
Me: I don’t get alone time. I don’t have a safe space for my special introversion-ness. *world’s smallest violin plays in the background*
You know… I could just not bitch about what I don’t have and be grateful for the things I do… like a place to live and food and clean clothes, and reliable transportation… How about hot water and electricity? Those are nice, too…
But, no. Instead, I’m sitting here feeling trapped and confined and sorry for myself. Which is dumb, because feeling sorry for myself isn’t making me feel better or in any way changing my situation. It’s just wasted energy.
As shitty as this writing is, I’m going to end it here. The chicken is done so I need to finish making my lunches. I need to shower still, and there are notes to type.
It feels like I’m waiting for the day to end so tomorrow can start because maybe tomorrow will be better. It also feels like whatever sad emotion I was feeling is turning to anger, which has more potential to accomplish stuff than depression.
So you know what? Fuck you, Sunday. You’re my target now, and I won’t let you win.
Warrior Freya 